


The Strangeness of Four

by MusicLover19



Series: Klaus' Strange Life [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Chapter 6 is soft and happy though, Dave & Klaus Hargreeves During Vietnam, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Ghosts, He's high and looking for drugs/money, Hurt/Comfort, I freaking love Dave and Klaus, I promise, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jewish Dave (Umbrella Academy), Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, M/M, More Hurt Than Comfort, Overdose, Pansexual Klaus Hargreeves, Vietnam War, all tags revolving around Klaus, do not copy to another site, does major death apply? probably, so at least dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 51,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21661171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicLover19/pseuds/MusicLover19
Summary: Number Four was a strange child, unlike his adopted siblings, his eyes had followed nothing, and his nanny would report strange happenings around the child. Oftentimes, he would be caught mumbling snippets of phrases that he shouldn’t know. He knew things that he shouldn’t be able to know. He was branded and hurt multiple times in life, and yet he made his own path. Klaus was unlike his siblings in many ways, but his experience was the most distinct.A look through Klaus' life, showing many moments from birth to the Apocolypse.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Series: Klaus' Strange Life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579927
Comments: 58
Kudos: 293





	1. A Childhood Wasted

**Author's Note:**

> This originally started out as a 'Klaus and his relationship with the dead' and turned into a seven-chapter monster that doesn't address it too much, so that's fun.

Number Four was a strange child, unlike his adopted siblings, the child had screamed and cried almost constantly. No aid would calm him. Then, one day, the child had fallen silent. His eyes had followed nothing, and his nanny would report strange happenings around the child. She would leave the child alone often, always hesitant to touch him. Pogo felt similar, although, he had never allowed himself the opportunity to show his feelings, these children had a destiny to complete, but they were still children.

Yet, the child continued to develop without problems. Speech was a peculiar thing with this child. He had spoken before the others, the words seeming unusual in the child’s mouth. Once he had begun to speak, he hadn’t stopped. His first nanny had left almost weeks after he had spoken, she had cried, having locked him into his room. Pogo had asked and had regretted the knowledge when it was shared. Number Four had spoken the name of her late son, a name he couldn’t have heard, not one she had uttered, nor one that had been said in the household. _Waldemar_. The name shouldn’t have been possible. Not in a child so young. Not so clearly as he had spoken. Number Four had repeated the name for days, and it had left Pogo uneasy.

The child’s second nanny had lasted longer. She had once questioned Number Four’s health, fearing for the child’s temperature, but Reginald had paid her enough to stop that train of thought, assuring her that the child was well. She had helped Number Four continue his speech development, still ahead of the other children. It seemed as though Number Four absorbed the world around him so easily, learning so quickly. Pogo had been surprised to hear the child babble in another language a year later. He hadn’t thought that the nanny had known German, but the child had begun speaking it nonetheless.

Number Four had begun to cry once again at the age of three. He would flinch from unseen images, both he and the child’s nanny had mentioned the behaviour to Reginald. All involved had agreed to monitor the situation, watching for more signs in the child that showed unusual effects.

Then, Number Six and Number Seven had disposed of their own nannies. For a week, Number Four screamed and cried, shaking uncontrollably. Three nannies had to be replaced that week, as Number Four’s nanny resigned from her post. Number Seven’s nanny had to be replaced more often, and Number Six also found a new nanny as years passed. Until Grace.

The damage had seemed to be done. The children were all damaged and Number Four seemed to bounce between manic and catatonic. It was strange to see such a child bounce in his actions, and then suddenly freeze and not react to a single stimulus. However, knowing of the destiny ahead, Pogo didn’t dare grow attached, these children were _special_ , they had so much to give to the world. Number Four was likely showing this _specialness_ of his own. Pogo did care for the children, even the strangeness of Number Four. They were all so unique and special, even if their abilities drew fear. There was something so potent about Number Four. The blue hue that surrounded the dead would likely stick with Pogo.

* * *

Number Four didn’t know when he had noticed he was different from his siblings. He had imaginary friends as a child, or at least that is what his father and Grace had said. No one had believed they were real, and Number Four remembers screaming so much at what he saw. He had cried and begged and tried to leave, but no one had believed him.

So, Number Four pretended what he saw wasn’t real. Even though he knew better.

Imaginary friends did not scream. They did not bleed. They did not reach for Number Four with such intensity that his skin froze.

Number Four doesn’t remember what caused his father to believe him. But he did. Number Four remembers part of the week that he had dedicated to Number Four, so proud to have another child with powers. Number Four had just had to talk to the imaginary people around him, ask them their name and talk to them. It had been easy. Number Four had enjoyed the attention from Reginald that he forgot just what he saw.

His scream hadn’t been expected, but it still happened when more imaginary people arrived.

“ _Six. Monsters. Death_.” the words were loud, and the woman was barely able to stand. There was a hole in her chest, and another in her stomach. Thankfully she wasn’t turned, otherwise, Number Four would see her brains oozing from the crack in her skull. Number Six was near, she always followed Number Six, screaming about monsters, about his powers that Reginald had grinned about. Later in life, Klaus guessed that Ben had caused her death as a child. She had stopped her muttering, merely screaming when he had been around, and the years passed more, and she seemed to forget the cause of her death.

“Number Four! Control yourself!” Reginald had shouted that day, his voice had an urgency to it, but Number Four was caught up in what he was seeing. More people joined the woman, their insides slipping from their body and body parts missing. Number Four had never seen so many of them, the imaginary people had seemed to multiply, each becoming more gruesome. Number Four didn’t remember what happened next, but both Reginald and Pogo had left him alone after that day. Pogo had stared at Number Four with such distress and even Reginald had allowed more leeway in Number Four’s actions for the next week. It had almost been worth it.

That week of freedom had been full of a chill that never truly left. Number Four had stopped shivering by the second day, but his siblings seemed to hate him. They complained of how cold he was.

“You can see the dead Number Four,” Reginald had explained once he decided that Number Four’s training should continue. “You must gain control over this ability, we cannot have a repeat of last week. Grace will guide you on some calming techniques to help you keep your sanity during stressful times. You will be excused from Saturday afternoons for this session. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Number Four agreed. It was expected, and even as a child, he knew not to argue. Whilst Number Four wasn’t missing their designated playtime, he was missing their research time. Each child would retire to their rooms to complete assignments on Saturday afternoons, as well as Sunday.

Spending time with Grace was calming, even if it did cause more of a rift between the children. Number Four learnt how to keep his breathing even, and how to focus on another thing, rather than the people he saw. Grace’s smile and blue eyes were comforting, and Number Four used them as a guide when he had these lessons.

Then the night had come that Reginald had come to collect him. Number Four followed his father, rubbing his eyes to keep himself awake. Pogo offered him a place to doze as they drove, and shook him awake before Reginald noticed the napping child.

Number Four’s first trip to the mausoleum had been terrifying, but he managed to stop his screaming by focusing on Pogo and Reginald, it wasn’t until Reginald asked him to converse with the ghosts in the mausoleum that he couldn’t stop the screams.

“Number Four! Communicate!”

“ _Number Four_! _Four_! _Four_! _Four_!” the spirits around continued to chant, their words growing in volume until Number Four’s hands were pressed against his ears.

Number Four could feel himself repeating his name along with the ghosts. It was almost satanic, the words echoing in the small room. A flash of light pulled Klaus from the sound, and he returned to himself enough to watch as Reginald and Pogo left. The darkness overcame him when the door closed, and Klaus raced forward, fingernails scraping as he tried to pry the door open. The darkness was thick, and the air around the mausoleum chilled even more. Klaus began to scream louder as fingers and wind wrapped around him, scraping at his back and pulling on his clothes. His screams grew more panicked until he was finally pulled backwards.

Number Four’s screams died down when he lost consciousness.

This continued for almost a month. Number Four withdrew more as every other night, he was subjected to the mausoleum. Reginald and Pogo rarely entered with him, deciding to leave the child to his own fate in hopes of him still being awake when they released him. They didn’t see any danger, other than the child losing consciousness, there were no scratches, nor blood. It seemed to have just been fear that overwhelmed him. Fear, which needed to be ignored.

* * *

Klaus. Number Four’s name was Klaus. Klaus liked his name. It was his own, it was special. It was normal. They all got names; Luther, Diego, Allison, _Klaus_ , Five, Ben, and Vanya. Five had refused his name, something Klaus hadn’t understood, but he respected the choice and kept his number in mind rather than the name mom had given him.

He had a name, a _real_ name, like mom and Pogo. So, why did he feel hollow? He saw his other siblings laugh, they were enjoying their half an hour of play. Klaus just watched. Even Five was taking part. Ben, stood at the edge of the group, offered Klaus a smile, but he couldn’t return it. Klaus would rather Ben’s eyes overlook him, as they did for the man at his side. He claimed to have been a soldier, but Klaus doubted the words. There was truth in them, but no soldier dressed as he had. No soldier had been shot through the head in such an execution fashion. Nor did they talk about Cosa Nostra. Pogo had explained to him, in that resigned way that told Klaus he shouldn’t know the answer, that Cosa Nostra was connected to the Mafia. This man had been a Mafia soldier, a young one at that. He had died for saying the wrong thing, but he promised that he hadn’t been a rat. Klaus didn’t believe him, but Klaus didn’t really understand the words he was told. They just felt _wrong_.

Just as standing in the room with his siblings felt _wrong_. It didn’t feel right when Diego had pushed him into the room so he could get passed. Klaus had expected Diego to phase through him, as he had for Randal and Tasha. Yet, he hadn’t.

Slipping out of the room, Klaus closed his eyes and let his feet take him on a journey. He hummed, almost dancing as he drifted through the hallways. Nothing was real, nothing mattered, and Klaus could hear Vanya’s violin. His humming changed to compliment Vanya’s playing, and his steps grew more exaggerated as he twisted and turned down towards his own room. There was a chorus of screams following him, his old name still being called to him, begging for help and attention. They were background noise, working to build the music from Vanya’s violin into a symphony.

* * *

Klaus longed to _feel_. Mom had patched him up, cleaning the bloodied nails of his fingers. He had spent the night scratching at the mausoleum walls, begging Reginald to free him. Klaus remembered the feeling of being pulled back, but it hadn’t happened in years - if it had happened at all. Klaus couldn’t recall the ghosts reaching out for him and making contact, other than that memory. He told himself it had been a dream, a realistic nightmare. Reginald had sneered and explained in a condescending tone that Klaus’ fear had made his powers weak.

He visited the mausoleum once every other week.

Klaus would beg and scream for hours before he found himself pressed back into the corner. He’d listen to the screams. _Number Four_. _Number Four_. _Number Four_. _Four_. _Four_. _Four_. _Four_. Klaus hated how his name had been twisted. Then, one particular night, a different ghost had followed him to the mausoleum. He had screamed _Klaus_. Klaus. The others had joined in.

Klaus hated his name.

Reginald had stopped asking if Klaus had overcome his fear of the dead. He would just look at the child and tut before either releasing him or condemning him to more time.

More often than not Klaus would be sat quiet, watching the door when it opened. He wouldn’t respond verbally to Reginald, nor would be truly looking at the man. Klaus didn’t _see_ during those moments. The world made no sense during those moments. He would reach and his voice would croak, but no sound or movement would happen. It was as though his body was too heavy to move. He would just sit, his back pressed into the cold stone. Even the change from darkness to brightness wouldn’t register.

 _Klaus_. _Four_. _Klaus_. _Number Four_. _Klaus_.

The mantra wouldn’t stop. Klaus would feel the words ring around him, his mind feeling weightless in the void of it all.

“Master Klaus, Grace is waiting for you.”

Blinking slowly, Klaus had stepped forward. He didn’t see the frown on Pogo’s face, he just walked the path he was destined to.

 _Klaus_. _Klaus_. _Klaus_. _Klaus_. _Klaus_. _Klaus_. _Klaus_. _Klaus_. _Klaus_. _Klaus_.

“Klaus, darling, take a seat.”

He did. It was almost as though he was watching mom patch him up from across the room, and he had let out a sigh when she had left him alone.

Alone. He treasured it. He hated it.

Klaus could never keep the cold away after the mausoleum, he wouldn’t feel anything but the cold creeping upon his skin. In an effort to ease it, he often burnt himself in a bath, the water as hot as he could manage. The pain helped ground him, it brought him back into his body. Klaus often felt less like a wandering spirit in the pain.

Towel around his waist, Klaus noticed Ben sat in his room. The warmth of the room too inviting to pass, he slipped in. Ben’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked up to Klaus. The child had stood in the doorway, eyes closed, swaying back and forth. It only lasted a few moments before he had stumbled away, most likely continuing back to his own room.

Klaus rarely indulged for long. He longed to wrap himself around Ben, leeching the heat from the boy’s body until he felt human again. It wasn’t allowed. Ben was different. Ben was dangerous. The others were scared of Ben, and Klaus had to act the same. Klaus couldn’t grow attached, he couldn’t give himself the chance to pull the heat from the boy. Not when his own skin froze without need.

* * *

Klaus’ personal training had begun to evolve during the day, he would continue with his language lessons, trying to master them in case he encountered any non-American spirits. Klaus picked up the languages rather quickly, bouncing from one to another with an ease that had surprised Pogo - it had been Grace who took over those teachings, her knowledge continuously being updated to fit Reginald’s desires. Klaus had also continued his mediation training - not that it helped as Klaus couldn’t just _turn off_ the ghosts.

They were nine years old when Grace had taken Allison and Vanya aside, Klaus hadn’t thought anything strange except that _Vanya_ had been the one to be pulled away with Allison. Perhaps the quiet one had brought forth Allison’s envy. That tended to be why they were pulled away from the others during their downtime. Grace was typically the one to play peacekeeper, she would sit down with the children in question and _use words to ease the pain_ as she would say. It was nonsense and typically ended up with a bigger fight to figure out who had told on the other.

Both girls had seemed horrified when they returned though, so Klaus doubted it was the typical talk they had been given.

He had kept an eye on the others before he followed Vanya over to her secluded area. She was often the one to stay out of the masses, something he could understand, their siblings could be a lot. It seemed as though Five and Luther were complaining to one another, whilst Ben and Allison cheered on their respective siblings. It annoyed Klaus sometimes, him and Ben were more alike with their weird powers but he had grown attached to Five. He supposed that the two of them were _serious_ , so it did make sense. Diego seemed to be making comments at the side, no doubt trying to annoy both of the siblings arguing. It seemed silly, especially when they only got half an hour a week to themselves as a group.

“What did mom want?” Klaus asked, giving Vanya a wide grin. She seemed startled that he was talking to her, he supposed that he couldn’t blame her, they didn’t make an effort to talk all that often. A ghost behind Vanya - a nanny perhaps from her outfit, cackled loud enough to make Klaus flinch. Vanya seemed even more uncomfortable. His siblings tended to be when he was around, his _abilities_ seeming strange and uncomfortable when they weren’t visible he guessed.

“It was just stuff,” Vanya muttered.

Klaus stopped himself from rolling his eyes. She was _quiet_ , that was mainly the reason he didn’t seek out his sister. She would likely be drowned out by the screams if he tried to stay close by. Vanya was different, _indifferent_ it seemed.

“What stuff?” Klaus pressed, if she opened up once in a while, he wouldn’t mind her. At the moment, all she was good for was drowning out the ghosts with her ungodly music and even then, Klaus didn’t often have the chance to see that benefit, she only practised when they trained. _Poor Number Seven_ , left out of training to play music. He envied her. At times he thought he hated her. She was too small and quiet to hate.

The ghost cackled even louder, and Klaus glared in her direction. Her head was bent at a strange angle, but otherwise she seemed fine, a tamer ghost compared to others. At least she wasn’t screaming his name, he could handle some laughter.

“Mom said we didn’t have to tell you,” Vanya fumbled with the words in her mouth, and Klaus had a brief thought of a different Vanya than he was used to, one that wasn’t so scared of talking, but it was silly, she would never be like that.

The ghost dissolved into hacking laughter, loud and grating.

“Will you shut up?” Klaus hissed, turning half towards her, but Vanya was the one to flinch back as if he had hit her. Klaus didn’t bother to apologise to her before leaving. He didn’t care anymore about her, she had not done her purpose, and it was unlikely that he’d get the information out of Allison, she would rather rumour him into leaving before admitting what made her uncomfortable.

Klaus stalked into the house, frustrated with his lack of answers, he knew it didn’t matter, but he wanted to know.

“They were just learning about their monthly subscription that will be starting soon,” the Nanny ghost told him. Klaus paused, he had heard her speak before, but it was always directed at Vanya - calling her insolent, bratty and sneering when she ate oatmeal. This lady hadn’t spoken to him before.

“What subscription? Why do they get one?” Klaus frowned, he didn’t look at her, hoping that it would let her know that this was a one-time conversation, he doubted the success of that though. No ghost had left him alone after finding out he can talk to them.

“Don’t worry your weird head,” the lady snorted, trying to hold back her laughter. “They’re going to be fighting the scarlet crusade.”

Klaus frowned more. Dad _had_ mentioned saving the world, but why would Vanya be included - she hadn’t been training, she couldn’t do _anything_ , she would hold Allison back more than anything. What was dad thinking? He wanted them dead, that’s the only thing Klaus could rationalise from the choice.

“Jesus, you kids are sheltered,” the laughter seemed void in the lady’s voice and Klaus couldn’t help but turning to look at her in confusion. She looked sad. “Go look in the library for a book about biology,” she sighed, “read up on puberty, it’ll let you know why your sisters had to learn something before you boys did.”

Klaus considered the advice as she turned to drift back to Vanya most likely. Following her advice, Klaus did go to the library, side-stepping _his_ section. The books on death, ghosts and spirituality were nonsense, they didn’t work for him. It took a few attempts, but Klaus did find a book that touched on puberty and the _changes that occur in your body_. He read, slightly horrified himself as he skimmed over the male changes and the female changes. It didn’t quite answer his question about what crusade they would be fighting, but he supposed it was one of the metaphors that they were told about. The book he was reading mentioned; period and Aunt Flo as another way to name the _monthly event_ that happened. It did sound horrifying, and he could understand on one hand why little Vanya had been unwilling to part with the wisdom. He did look at the girls a little differently, but they were still young, so it might not happen soon from what the book had said.

Klaus’ new discovery was soon put aside, training had begun to intensify.

Klaus didn’t mind the group training. He wasn’t as competitive as the others, he didn’t mind not being number one, he tried to add a bit of fun to it all. Not everyone appreciated his help. There had been one time that Allison had rumoured Klaus quiet, he had been talking nonstop, not that that was unusual for these training sessions, or in general. Klaus often talked about anything, it was easier to focus on his own voice around other people than it was to ignore the ghost’s cries. The click of his jaw was followed with five sighs of relief, and Klaus knew that if Vanya was around, her own sigh would have joined the others.

“I heard a rumour that you stopped talking.” Allison had always been quick to anger, but she had rarely used her ability against the family. She had learnt early on that it had resulted in punishments. Klaus was hopeful when Reginald came to observe their training, hoping that he would notice the difference in Klaus, that he would realise what had happened and demand Allison reverse the rumour.

He didn’t.

“Number Four, it seems as though you are taking your training seriously for once,” he had said. Praise was rare from Reginald, especially praise aimed at Klaus. He hated how warm it made him feel, how it eased the chill in his chest and brought a smile to his face.

Klaus didn’t speak for a week.

Klaus was silent in the mausoleum.

The ghosts spoke enough to make up for Klaus’ silence.

Klaus was praised more when he was released. The words echoing in the silence of his mind, clear despite the wails around him.

It wasn’t until Allison demanded to know where her nail polish was that she had cornered Klaus. Her eyes ablaze when he wouldn’t reply to her demands.

“I heard a rumour you told me where it was!” She had demanded.

The spell was broken. The words escaped Klaus’ throat with a croak, he told her that it was in his room, in the drawer next to his research books. She was gone in an instant, marching to collect her belongings, unaware of what spell she had broken.

It didn’t surprise Klaus that she had forgotten, Allison would often ignore things that didn’t impact her life. She was important to herself, and he knew that. Everyone was selfish, so he couldn’t blame her.

With his voice back, the praise stopped. The tentative relationship that had been build with his siblings as they researched was gone. Klaus’ constant chatter drowned out the ghosts and his siblings.

He wasn’t surprised, but it still hurt.

* * *

Klaus had been experimenting with his clothes for a while. He had skirts hidden under his bed, odd nail polish bottles hidden in his drawer. He had even managed to borrow one of Grace’s dresses without anyone noticing. He classed that as a success. It was one of the few moments he truly smiled.

Allison had refused to let him look at her clothes, and Vanya seemed to appreciate the clothes that their brothers wore, so Klaus had needed to search elsewhere. Mom had explained to him that his experiments with clothes wasn’t usual, that boys didn’t _want_ dresses and skirts like Allison. That fake smile of hers had haunted Klaus late into the night as the ghosts continued their wails of despair.

Klaus was different. He had known it, but to hear the words from mom had solidified the truth of the fact. Klaus knew that the Academy wasn’t _normal_. He had seen the ghosts that hadn’t lost themselves, they were often eager to talk to him, happy to tell their life story to a child, and sometimes even being stubborn enough to send the worst of the other ghosts away.

Sandra had been one such ghost. She had been a kind lady, although she had baulked when Klaus had told her as much. She was a proud twenty-four-year-old, not a grandmother, she had scolded him. She had appeared when Klaus had asked Grace about why Allison got to wear dresses whilst everyone else had shorts. Sandra had watched silently, waiting until Klaus was back in his room, before she asked if Klaus had wanted to wear a skirt like his sister. They had conspired to get one that evening. Klaus had waited until Allison had gone to Luther’s room to study before he slipped into her room.

That night Klaus had modelled his skirt for Sandra, happy to hear her compliments. Unfortunately, Sandra didn’t stay with Klaus for long, she had apologised but she needed to see her family. He missed her. He missed letting somebody see him in a skirt. He missed that feeling of somebody knowing he was different and not pointing it out. Sandra had accepted it without any hesitation.

Klaus’ most recent attempt to add to his collection had been a pair of Grace’s shoes. They were her signature red shoes, not too outrageous, nor too plain in taste. Why Grace had a whole closet for herself, Klaus didn’t know, but he was thankful for the chance to borrow some of her things.

Klaus had walked quietly, barefoot, through the house. The others were enjoying their free time outside with Grace and Pogo, their set half an hour to play and have fun. Klaus had snuck inside to get a drink he had said, but his sights were set on a pair of heels. No one had heels in the house but Grace, even Allison hadn’t been allowed them. Reginald hadn’t wanted to indulge in such a way, which had led to a protest from Allison.

For a while, Klaus wondered why Allison hadn’t just rumoured her way to what she wanted like she usually did. Although, he never recalled her using her powers on Reginald. There was another ghost that had told him the reason. That day was when Reginald became someone Klaus avoided. Allison _had_ tried to rumour the man, she had spoken the words; _I hear a_ \- the sentence hadn’t been completed. Instead, Allison’s cheek had taken the brunt of his reaction. The ghost had gleefully spoken about how Reginald had barely moved, but his hand had struck her cheek with a force that sent her stumbling back in shock. She had cried. It was strange to consider her crying. She hadn’t attempted to rumour him since that day, at least from what Klaus knew.

The heels just right where he expected them to be. Klaus wasted no time in slipping his feet into them. They were too big, but he was proud to say that he was wearing them. Standing was a difficult task, even without moving, he felt wobbly.

Kicking them off his feet, Klaus gathered the heels in his arms. He peeked around the walls, dashing up to his room to safety. He would wait until nightfall to try them fully, but he skipped up the stairs, grinning wide enough to show his teeth.

He still had that same smile when he returned to his siblings, barely for the last five minutes of their playtime. His mission had been a success, Sandra would have been proud of him. He cast a wary look to the ghost holding onto his own head, somehow still managing to call out for Klaus. That night wouldn’t come soon enough. Klaus vibrated the whole afternoon, collecting frustrated sighs and eye rolls as his prizes to tide him over.

Grace’s heels were everything he had wanted, and slipping into the dress he had borrowed was heavenly. He kept the lights off in his room, knowing that there was the risk of being seen. He wished he could see himself, that he would see how the dress he had taken looked on his body, despite being too big. Pulling the fabric up, Klaus had sat on his bed to put the heels on. He stood gingerly, his hand reaching for his wall to steady him.

One step. His foot wobbled as he put pressure on it. He could feel how unstable he was, but he refused to back down. No fear would stop him. No ghost in his room scowling and screaming would stop him. Even Reginald himself wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Another step. Klaus’ breath grew quicker as his legs shook. He felt unstable. Unsafe. The risk felt worth it.

Slowly, Klaus managed to cross his room. His footing grew stronger, and he grew more confident with how his feet slipped inside of the shoes.

Grace was never going to see these heels again.

Nightly, Klaus practised walking. He no longer had to reach out for the wall to stabilise himself, nor did he have to hesitate with each step to make sure he was secure with his footing. He felt happy. He felt _free_. He felt daring.

So, Klaus stepped outside of his room. He was wearing Allison’s skirt and Grace’s heels. The house was silent. He listened to his heels clicking as he made his way to the stairs. The smile wouldn’t leave his face. Carefully, he took the stairs one at a time, cautious of the new terrain. He was triumphant in his task, reaching the kitchen with barely a fear of falling. He lingered only long enough to drink a glass of water before heading back to his room. His pace had quickened, and he didn’t notice the ghosts around him that haunted the halls of the Umbrella Academy. The noise had faded into the background.

Moving up the stairs in the heels was almost as much of a challenge as descending them. Focusing on each step, Klaus was slow in his movements. He still reached the top step without any trouble. His joy felt indestructible, he hardly noticed how he was stumbling backwards all at once. A pain flared in his shin as the grin fell from his face.

Klaus stared wide-eyed at Reginald’s stoic face.

Klaus didn’t recall waking up. He didn’t recall falling asleep. He certainly didn’t recall falling.

The whine from his throat was what caught his attention. He couldn’t move his mouth. His fingers tangled in the sheets beneath him. His head spun, and his breath quickened. He couldn’t move his mouth. Trying to push any noise through his teeth, a whine was all he could manage. His mouth was stuck. Klaus’ nostrils flared in an attempt to get enough oxygen. He couldn’t _breathe_. There was nothing in front of him to focus on, the world was dark. There was no ghost in the corner of the room. No screams of his name. It was _quiet_. Klaus couldn’t breathe. Klaus’ chest heaved as his nails scratched against the sheets. He had died. He must have. He was alone, in the dark, with nothing - no ghosts, _nobody_.

* * *

“You silly goose,” Grace had cooed when Klaus opened his eyes again. The world was bright this time, and although his breathing was quick, he was _breathing_. “You took a tumble down the stairs.”

Klaus opened his mouth to protest, but nothing happened. He tried again, without gaining new results. Another whine left his throat.

“Silly goose,” Grace repeated. Her tone had softened as she brushed the hair from Klaus’ forehead. “You managed to break your jaw, so it’s wired shut to mend. There is no talking for you for a while.”

No talking. _No talking_. Those two words echoed in Klaus’ head. A part of Klaus had been ripped away from him again, and yet, the silence continued around him. There were no wails or screams desperate to get his attention.

Klaus felt different, even without the screams following him. There was an almost dream-like quality to Grace, she smiled and continued to speak, but the words roared in Klaus’ ears. He tried to lift his hand, but it barely left the bed he was laid on. Frowning, he tried again, managing to become airborne before Grace seemed to push him back down onto the bed.

“Just settle back and relax, you are on bed-rest for the next week while I monitor your progress,” she explained, but Klaus had to strain to hear her. “Only liquids until we cut the wires, and we need to go over what to do if I’m not here since you are at a higher risk of choking. Hopefully, there will be no sickness bug going around.”

Klaus didn’t want to know what would happen if he had to be sick with his jaw fused shut. It sounded horrific.

Klaus slept a lot following that first day. He often would wake with illegible ‘no’s on the tip of his tongue, but the wails that would keep him awake were still not there. Staring up at the darkened ceiling was strange, there was so much missing, as though an integral part of Klaus had been removed with his voice. It was strange not to see the ghosts, freeing in a sense.

That only lasted a week.

Klaus wasn’t sure what changed, but the ghosts began to return to him. Their voices were as non-existent as his own, but they were watching over what happened around him. He felt their stares when he returned to the civilisation of his family. Grace had allowed him that freedom, and he had been met with smirks from his siblings. Reginald hadn’t shown any reaction to Klaus’ reappearance, but there was a liquefied meal all ready for Klaus courtesy of Grace. The stares continued, the sibling’s glances adding to the feeling. Still, it was silent, and Klaus was thankful.

During downtime, the others had cornered Klaus, berating him for trying to walk down the stairs in heels, asking where he had found them, letting him know that it was his own fault. Ben had asked if Klaus was benched from training, which had silenced everyone else. Klaus’ nod had been met with sighs and huffs.

The silence continued, Klaus’ spare time had been overtaken with studies. If he wasn’t able to train, he was expected to expand his knowledge in order to be useful during this time. After all, it was a waiting game until Klaus could re-join and show how dedicated he had been to the Academy.

Klaus and Vanya had found a neutral relationship, often facing the same lessons taught whilst the others were training. It had been nice to be around her, even though there were strange women that would scowl and glare at the two of them. It had been nice, the illusion of being like Vanya, of being _normal_. Reginald continued to go on about their abilities and how important they were to the future, and Klaus enjoyed being ordinary for once. He just wished that the ghosts were still invisible to his eyes, that’d make the illusion of normalcy easier.

The silence didn’t last, almost a month after Klaus’ jaw was wired, he found himself waking to screams and cries of his name. The world felt heightened, the air around him heavy and cold, and the noise was deafening. Klaus’ hands had slapped against his ears, barely blocking the cries of his name. The illegible ‘no’s escaped his mouth again, a dull pain making itself known to him. The air seems to vibrate around him as he drew his knees to his chest, trying to keep his breathing manageable. It wasn’t working, instead, it came in pants.

Klaus spent the rest of the night in that position. His body shivering with the sudden cold, and his chest heaving with his own unheard screams. They were loud, louder than he could remember them being. Klaus found relief when Grace came to wake him, tutting about how he should have gone to her if he was in pain. The medication she gave him took a while to work, but Klaus could hear the screams dulling. The echoed calls of his name faded and soon enough, Klaus could only see the outlines of the ghosts haunting him.

It was magical.

Yet, Klaus had laughed when the time came for the wires to be cut. He had adjusted to seeing the ghosts again, the pain medication having been reduced slowly, allowing more sound to be filtered back to him. He had finally opened his mouth as he cackled.

His siblings hadn’t shared his joy. They had frowned, rolling their eyes as words flowed from Klaus’ mouth without pause. He spoke about how horrid it had been to not talk, although he didn’t explain how when the ghosts did regain their own voices, he had been stuck without his way of avoiding them. He had been caught in their trap, unable to attempt an escape other than to whine deep in his throat. It felt strange to have the movement of his mouth back in his control. His own voice had sounded _wrong_.

Klaus’ return to training had been harder than he had expected. Reginald expected the same from him as he had before, offering no leeway, and demanding the others to outshine Klaus in every aspect. Allowing an eight-week break to outshine the constant training would be a mockery, and Klaus didn’t blame his siblings for the humiliation they overlooked. They hadn’t blinked when Klaus had fallen in desperation, gasping for breath and raising a hand to his aching jaw. They hadn’t hesitated in their movements when Reginald demanded more from Klaus, or when tears became to leak from Klaus’ eyes as he pushed himself beyond his limits. Klaus didn’t blame them, but he also knew better than to have expected any different.

When Klaus was lent over the toilet, his stomach protesting in the aftermath of training, he waved his siblings away. He didn’t want their pity, not after the eight weeks of _bliss_ in their minds. They had spoken openly about how quiet life had been and how some of them had _wished_ that Klaus never spoke like he used to, that perhaps his jaw being wired shut will teach him to stay quiet sometimes. The burning in his stomach wasn’t just due to nausea.


	2. The Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From tattoos to an uneventful night. We see a few firsts in Klaus' life.

Klaus had been numb when the tattoos were scratched into his skin. Klaus had _volunteered_ first. Reginald enjoyed keeping everyone guessing, so sometimes he would call them forward out of order, ‘ _Number Four, you will show the others how it is done_ _’_. Klaus had barely heard him over the roar in his ears, there was a woman following the tattooist, she was loud. Klaus had been in the mausoleum the previous night though, and Reginald knew how Klaus acted when he returned. It was a hard readjustment back into the land of the living. Even an hour with only the ghosts around was enough to make Klaus feel light.

So, here he was, sat in the chair, about to float away if it hadn’t been for the man’s hand on his arm to hold his wrist steady. He stared at the wall above his siblings. He had been first, unaware of what would come, and the pain was doing a poor job of drowning out the pleads of the woman. ‘ _Please, he needs to know I love him_ _’._ She hasn’t started calling his name yet, he didn’t think it’d be too long.

Klaus winced, the pain was sharp as it scratched over a tender area of his wrist. They were being branded, although Reginald hadn’t said as much. _A badge of honour_ , not a brand to single them out. A tear fell down his cheek, Klaus wondered when he had started to cry. No sound escaped him, but the tears continued.

“All done,” the man finally said, the wipe revealing the umbrella to his eyes. No matter where Klaus went, he would never escape his past, this made sure of it. Not that Klaus saw himself going elsewhere, that wasn’t part of Reginald’s plan. Klaus was still sure that his plan ended in their death’s. He had been continuing on about sacrifice and doing what was best for the world, it all sounded rather morbid - Klaus would know.

He stood to the side as Allison was called forward. She had sat tall, head steady as she held her wrist out for the man to take. Klaus heard her intake of breath clearly. The pain was not something they had experienced, not like this. Pain for them came in deep body aches after a long training session, or sore throats from constantly answering questions. It was rare that physical pain was inflicted on purpose, even when Diego had been learning to throw his knives, he had been able to keep them from doing more than scratching the others. Each child had been hurt before, but the repeated stabbing wasn’t an experience they had shared in the past, nothing like the sharp sting of a knife.

Diego looked anywhere but the man who was etching into Allison’s skin. He had never been one that liked needles, often hiding away from the tests they were subjected to. There had been one time that Grace had to hold him still in order to draw blood. Diego had seemed ready to fight anyone that mocked him, but no one had. Each sibling had their dislikes, and Diego’s were needles, he was allowed to keep that.

Five looked from Allison to Reginald with a murderous look, it was as though he was daring the man to say something. Five wouldn’t do anything though, Klaus knew that much. He wiped his face, brushing the tears back and catching sight of the bright pink skin. The black lines stood out, it was sickening to see.

Ben looked terrified, and it broke Klaus’ heart to see. Shy, sweet, kind Ben, he shouldn’t be subjected to this. He was never one to step out of line. He listened and did what he was told, even if it led to him crying into the night. Klaus had considered comforting him, but it wasn’t his place. Ben had turned to Five, letting the silence as the two spent time together do all the talking. Klaus didn’t know how to let that happen, silence was thick and needy, not calming. Perhaps it was for the best that Ben found comfort in Five rather than him.

Luther looked conflicted, it was the most conflicted Klaus had seen him. He knew why; Allison was in pain. Luther and Allison had been close for a while, gravitating to each other in a way that felt strange. They seemed to get along more than any other sibling, and Klaus was a little envious of the ease between them. They shared everything, holding nothing back. The good and the bad. They had been there to comfort each other after training and to laugh and celebrate their successes.

“ _Number Four! Please!_ ” Klaus clenched his jaw, his wrist burning as his hands clenched into fists. She had lasted longer than he had thought. Thankfully she had only heard what Reginald called them. _Klaus_ wouldn’t be sullied by another ghost.

Diego was next, refusing to look down at the needle painting his skin. Allison moved to join Klaus - who wiped his face again. He wrapped his arms around Allison, not caring about their past conflicts. She was in pain, and he would at least be useful here. Allison shrunk into Klaus’ hold, it was a rarity that made his eyes water even more. Her quiet breaths were loud against his shoulder as she held back her cries.

Diego flinched away when Grace went to take his hand. That false bravado, Diego was famous for it. From the look of it, Five would be next, then Ben, and finally, Luther. Vanya was excused. _Of course_. Klaus tried not to feel angry at her, it wasn’t her fault, but he did catch sight of her lingering just out of Reginald’s sight. She longed to be apart of the group, and part of him resented her for that desire. She was normal. She could be happy with her life.

* * *

Training for missions had truly begun. Practice runs were set up, the alarm suddenly coming to life without warning sending the children scrambling to collect their masks and meet Reginald. All the while being lectured on how slow they were and how they’d never be able to reduce crime. It wasn’t the first time that Klaus had missed the start of the alarm, the ghosts crowding him and making their cries known, blocking out all over noises. _That_ hadn’t earnt Klaus an easy training session following the trial runs.

They continued the training, managing to get their response times reduced, even if Reginald would still stalk the halls with a frown on his face as they all would fumble and get themselves to the standard that was required by him.

Then, their first real mission happened. It wasn’t too intense, it was merely a robbery. They happened almost weekly around then, and Reginald had been planning - waiting for the right moment to show them to the world. It had been the Capital West Bank, not that they knew much about the bank before going in. They had all been given a stern talk, _do no take the masks off, no causalities besides the robbers, do not let any harm come to each other_. The rules were tame, especially compared to their past training where Reginald would actively encourage pain between them in an attempt to bring more power to their abilities.

Five had the task of jumping through the building and getting a layout to report to the group, and Luther would take the charge from above. Everyone else would sneak in through an unwatched entrance once Five found it.

Klaus watched Allison waltz up to one of the men, rumouring him into shooting another before they made their move. It was no good for Allison to have all the fun after all. Luther crashing through the roof and throwing a man through the window had caused enough commotion for everyone to step into action.

It was exciting, the rush of acting. Klaus laughed as Diego ran, throwing his knives as he mocked the robbers. There was a brief moment where Klaus envisioned the knives twisting in the air towards him like they would in training, but they hit their mark, the man slumping to the floor.

Soon enough, there was only one man left in the room, the others had been injured enough that they wouldn’t run, and Allison, Diego and Klaus all watched him panic while Luther was trying to keep the hostages safe. Ben was behind the three children, with his own set of hostages, not enjoying himself as Klaus had been. The rush hadn’t seemed to have hit him.

Five’s entrance was immaculate as always, taunting the man and jumping out of sight at just the right moments to avoid being hurt.

Gathering the men together was nothing, it barely took time, especially as Five continued to jump around the building, making sure it was still secure. There were still some men behind, he had reported, which lead to Ben being pushed forward.

“Do we really have to do this?” Ben asked, but his eyes weren’t on their leader. He was staring at Klaus, making the boy swallow thickly.

“Come on, Ben. There’s more guys in the vault.”

Klaus found himself nodding with Luther’s words, but he hoped Ben understood. Klaus knew he didn’t like his ability, it was destructive and violent in the worst way. Whilst Klaus hated his own powers, it had to be worse knowing that any lapse in control, you would be the cause for death.

Ben sighed, muttering how he hadn’t signed up for this. Klaus wanted to stop him, to tell him it was ok, that he didn’t have to do what they had asked of him. He couldn’t bring himself to. It wasn’t his place to disagree with Reginald and Luther, not with such explicit orders having been given. Ben had given Klaus another look before he opened the door, and Klaus had to fight to keep himself stood still. There was a silent understanding between the two of them, one that they hadn’t used to their advantage, but when training had gotten a little too personal, or when their abilities would seem too difficult to control, they would often share this look, one to show that they weren’t alone in feeling out of control. That they weren’t alone in feeling scared of what they could do or see.

Klaus hadn’t needed to watch to know when the eldritch monsters were released. The whole Academy had heard the roars in the distance during Ben’s individual training. The hostages hadn’t had that pleasure, they were rightfully scared. Almost as one, they had turned, screaming as they ran to freedom.

It was tempting to follow.

The cloudy glass hid nothing as the shadows moved and bodies were thrown against it. Ben’s re-entrance was met with a sigh of relief in all the children. They had never encountered Ben’s _guests_ personally, it had always been from afar. Although there had been the one time in their childhood that Reginald had brought them to Ben, where he had struggled to hold them back, locked in a secure glass room, crying as the monsters tried to escape. It had been a warning to them. Ben was unsafe. His ability made him unsafe. They weren’t to get too close. He could lose control just as easily as he had then.

“Can we go home now?” Ben asked, his voice shaking as he poked his head around the door, almost trying to keep his stomach hidden from view.

Klaus’ breath stopped for a second. The blood was everywhere. The only difference from the blood on Ben and the ghosts that were beginning to fade into sight was how Ben’s chest heaved with each breath.

“ _You killed us. You brats killed us_!” the first of the men killed had already found his voice, whilst another was staring down at his own hands, a look of horror on his face. There were slits in his suit jacket and the impression of blood still oozing from his chest. Diego’s knives had hit their mark with no resistance. Klaus didn’t think he’d have a quiet night that night.

Ben was still shaking as he stepped from behind the door, closing it quickly behind him. His hands were in fists by his side, perhaps in an attempt to keep the eldritch monsters at bay or to stop himself from wrapping them around his stomach. Klaus had seen him do that a few times, typically when things got intense, long training sessions or even long _value lessons_ from Reginald - which were just lectures on their faults and what they needed to improve. No doubt Ben wanted to go back to his room, to curl up in his bed and pretend the day had never happened, Klaus remembered doing similar things himself. He longed to comfort Ben again, to let him know that it was over, and he did everything they had wanted.

The looks of alarm as they exited the bank were almost priceless, but Klaus couldn’t enjoy the amusement. Not when Ben was covered in blood. Definitely not when more of the ghosts around them had begun to find their voices, screaming and cursing at the siblings that had killed them, hoping to make some sort of impression on the children that couldn’t see or hear them.

_You killed us. Murderers. Freaks._

Klaus hadn’t slept that night. The ghosts had soon realised that he was the only one that could see them, and their attention had turned to him. All their anger and threats. It was a long, loud night.

* * *

The missions continued, and Klaus’ hold on himself seemed to lessen with each new ghost that was added to the collection in the house. The days grew longer and the nights were often sleepless. The anger seemed to infect the others.

Luther had grown more sure of himself, ready to lead and be the _important Number One_ that their father had branded him.

Diego had taken to the missions with an ease that shouldn’t have surprised Klaus. Much like Luther, Diego had a drive to help people. The two would punch anyone that compared the two, but it was true. The only difference was how Luther _assumed_ he was the best, whilst Diego was at least a little willing to listen to others. Both were stubborn and self-assured. Diego had made a point to train on his own, improve his strength and speed. He _wanted_ to be better based on his own merits rather than abilities - even if he still kept his knives with him. Reginald hadn’t acknowledged the dedication as far as Klaus knew.

Allison took the successes with the grace she always had. She grew less hesitant to use her powers - if that had even been possible. Her resistance to using it on her siblings was still present, but it had faded. If something hadn’t gone her way, then she would rumour her way forward. The last glass of juice had been taken by someone else; _I heard a rumour you gave me your juice_. Anyone but her sitting next to Luther outside of their meals; _I heard a rumour you moved seats_. It had been fun to a point, but it brought back the tightness in Klaus’ throat of not being able to talk. He had avoided Allison more as her ability seemed to reign the household. She had been careful to avoid Reginald in those moments, most likely in an attempt to avoid the punishment that would surely come.

Five’s behaviour hadn’t changed much. He still kept himself distant but he made an effort to talk to Vanya and Ben, seemingly the only two of his six siblings that didn’t annoy him. Klaus didn’t let it bother him, it was better, and at least they had someone, the two that seemed the most alone could at least rely on Five to be there. It seemed out of place for Five, Klaus couldn’t put his version of Five to theirs. It seemed alien of Five to let them cling to him, and yet he did. It was rare to see it, but Klaus _had_. They hadn’t noticed him, but Vanya and Five had been sat together, leant against each other with Ben on Five’s other side. Ben’s leg had been pressed against Five’s. It had been a quiet moment, and Vanya’s voice was soft as she read from the book in her hands. It was serene. Almost a perfect moment.

Klaus had left as soon as he realised what he had seen. It felt wrong to have seen it.

Ben seemed to withdraw all the more after missions, the more that happened, the darker the shadows under his eyes. It was painful to see how much these missions weighed on Ben. How he was the only one other than Klaus who was suffering with what they were doing. It made it difficult to nod with Luther’s assurance that Ben’s ability was needed at the end of their missions, that it was justified to _kill_ those that had done wrong. The ghosts that followed were nothing compared to that depression that swept over Ben.

Vanya seemed more withdrawn as well as the missions continued. The music she played had turned melancholy. Klaus had found himself listening with his door open, letting the sound travel through the gap. It made Klaus _feel_ , it helped calm the ghosts around him and it made Klaus feel alive. He would often sway to the tune, the world coming to a stop as he focused on the music, the cries and groans of the dead falling silent. That was a moment that helped bring Klaus’ mood back up, lifting him from the dead and back into the world of life. It was something he treasured, especially in the days after the mausoleum training.

* * *

It was on one of their missions that Klaus found himself helping a smaller group make their way to the exits. He had managed to get everyone free and out of danger before he was stunned with lips pressing against his own. The world seemed to stop around him. Klaus knew about kisses, they were written in the books he read. That dreaded puberty book even spoke about them. It was so different from Grace’s quick press of her lips to their foreheads when they were ill. The few odd times that they were given that much affection. These lips were warm, and the pressure was so different from Grace’s when she had kissed him.

It only lasted for a second, but Klaus wanted it to last forever. That blissful moment of just lips. It drowned out the panicked breaths of the other’s around them and the rattling of the ghosts as they tried to breathe.

“Thank you,” she had said, but Klaus’ mind was still on her lips. They were soft. Klaus tried to say it was nothing, they were here to save them after all, but the words wouldn’t come.

The teenager was long out of sight when he lifted his hand to his lips, still shocked and feeling the phantom of them against his own. He wondered what she looked like, the image of her fleeting and overshadowed by her blonde hair. He should have noticed her eyes or her smile. Something.

His siblings hadn’t been impressed when he took another ten minutes to return to the mission since they had waited for him to return. Klaus didn’t mind, his thoughts still on what had just happened.

Soon enough, Klaus’ usefulness on missions seemed to waver. Reginald and Luther seemed to place more hope in him acting stealthy and as a way of gaining information. They wanted him to use the ghosts of the recently deceased. No matter how Klaus begged them to believe it didn’t work that quickly, that they weren’t often useful in the few hours of death, very few people seemed to come forward with useful information about their death, they’re typically too traumatised and angry at what had happened. That wasn’t good enough, so Klaus’ usefulness had been lessened.

The first time Klaus had been demoted to a lookout, he wasn’t surprised. It still stung to be sat away from the action, away from offering some comfort to Ben who had walked away looking horrified at the thought of this mission. Klaus’ fighting had never been up to Reginald’s standards compared to the others, and it often brought forward frustration. Klaus could fight, but he didn’t take to it as easily as the others did. Klaus had enjoyed training, but he soon fell behind as the others raced ahead. Sometimes, Ben would join him behind the others, that silent support after he had a rough night, but it was rare.

Klaus had taken his new role seriously, watching over the empty corridors and trying to make sure that hostages were able to escape and find their way to freedom. It helped free someone else to fight. It gave Klaus something to do during these missions.

Even that had grown dull after the second mission. Klaus would find himself wandering the halls, listening for anything out of place and avoiding the newly appearing ghosts that seemed to be drawn to him. He had sighed, a hand reaching up to pull the mask from his face. It was going against rule one, but he didn’t care.

They were in a museum, it was a rare experience. Klaus enjoyed wandering the halls, just looking over the different pieces on display and reading the short blurbs there were jotted around the items. They hadn’t had the chance to explore places like these, so Klaus tried to make the most of it, it was a strange experience to link some of the items and art he saw to things they had learnt about over the years, but it made the history lessons feel more real than just facts had - even if this area of the museum had a strange smell.

It was slightly understandable when Klaus jumped at the sound of a cough behind him.

“Should you be here?”

“Should you?” Klaus snapped back, half alert at the sight of the person. His heart was still racing, and he was fairly sure his eyes were wide, but the teen in front of him didn’t look _too_ much older than him. It was unlikely that he was apart of this whole heist that was going on - but it never hurt to be careful. He certainly didn’t look like a threat, but looks could be deceiving. Klaus shifted slightly, widening his stance. If it came to a fight, he wouldn’t hold back.

“My dad told me to stay out of the way,” the teen shrugged. Klaus wondered what that would feel like, there were very few things that Reginald would tell them to stay away from. Mainly death things unless the person was Klaus, Klaus had been pushed towards more death-related things than the others, but there was always a point with Reginald and he wouldn’t breach it - which Klaus was thankful for. “Why are you skulking around?”

“I’m the lookout for the good guys,” Klaus said, he pushed his shoulders back, making himself stand straighter. His body seemed to deflate when the other person laughed.

“The lookout? How are you meant to tell them what is happening?”

Klaus opened his mouth to reply, but the words didn’t come forward. Originally Klaus was stationed outside of the main room that they were in, but he had been told to scout the area the past few missions. How _would_ he tell them if danger was around? It wasn’t like they were connected and he could just send them a message somehow.

“Shit man,” the teen laughed.

The words still sounded unfamiliar to Klaus. He knew swear words, the ghosts had been the introduction - Reginald, Pogo and Grace were too sophisticated to use them. Klaus remembered searching through the dictionary that they were all given as children to figure out the words they didn’t know. Klaus remembers one ghost from years ago that would just continuously curse at him, but Klaus hadn’t been able to utter one of them after Reginald had overheard him repeating the words spoken by a ghost. He had spent a night in the mausoleum unscheduled for that.

“They’re just keeping you out of the way too then,” the teen had continued, amusement loud to Klaus’ ears. It made his jaw clench to consider the truth of his words. “Team fuck-up!” the teen said loudly, holding his fist out to Klaus.

Klaus just stared at the boy. He looked out of place in a museum - or he seemed out of place from what Klaus knew of them. The dark clothes with nonsense words written across the chest. The fist hung in the air for a moment longer before it fell against the tight jeans he was wearing.

“Tough crowd,” he muttered, pulling something out of his jean pocket. “Do you smoke?”

“N- no,” Klaus shook his head.

Klaus backed away from the teen, his words still ringing in his mind. _Team fuck-up_. Was that really what they thought of him? Klaus knew he wasn’t as close to the others as they were with each other. He just thought it was because his ability was fundamentally different - Ben seemed to understand a little, but Klaus hadn’t wanted to isolate him by associating with him. Klaus _had_ been putting less effort into training, the exercise hadn’t seemed as joyful as it used to. So Klaus had gotten a little rustier than his siblings. Did that mean he was just a liability? _Sure_ , Reginald had accused him of being one, but Klaus hadn’t listened to the man.

Klaus appreciated all of his siblings, sure, there were things he’d like to change about them, but they were all their own person. He thought that they had similar mindsets. Luther was stubborn and headstrong, but he had lovely blond hair and a charming smile when he let himself relax. Diego was just as stubborn and a little self-centred at times, but he was softer than you’d expect. Diego would often spend his free time on Sunday’s with Grace in the kitchen, Klaus had stumbled across the two one evening, watching how much dedication Diego had put into mashing potatoes and how he had glowed with the praise mom had given him. It was almost cute. Allison’s need for attention often showcased her fashion sense, and there were moments that a softer side of Allison was visible to the rest of the world. Klaus had stumbled across her gentler side being shown to Luther and Vanya on separate occasions, it was nice to know that his sister wasn’t just how she wanted others to perceive her. She could play sweet and innocent, but Klaus had seen the truth behind that, the side of her that was still sweet when she wanted to be. Five’s intelligence was his strong suit, his mind worked quick and amazed everyone, but Klaus appreciated the side of his brother that would look out for his siblings. Five had often brought scorn onto himself during the longer, more intense training sessions after seeing how Klaus or Ben had struggled towards the end. Klaus hoped he hadn’t imagined the act, but he had never been brave enough to ask the truth. Ben was adorable, and Klaus would eagerly tell the world if they protested. As quiet as Ben often was, his personality would really show if someone looked for it, it was hidden in the eye rolls that would sometimes happen when one of the siblings were being obnoxious. Klaus would feel invincible on the days that his and Ben’s eyes would meet and a moment passed where they agreed in the stupidity of whatever had happened. Vanya seemingly blended into the background, but Klaus would often admire her as well, her thick hair and her eyes were stunning. Klaus would often consider hugging her, imagining how much emotion she would push into such a simple act. She had been holding back, something stopping her, it was clear to see in her eyes.

Was it too much to hope that his siblings thought something similar about him? That they may like his smile, or that they might enjoy some of the things he says when he managed to draw a smile out of them. Did they care for him at all?

Klaus frowned, noticing the same art piece in front of him. He had been wandering through the twists in the museum and somehow he had ended back here.

“Did you change your mind? It’ll help with anxiety.”

Klaus looked over to the teen he had left behind. There was a whisper of a ghost forming behind him, a snarl already set in place. There was a slight resemblance between him and the teen, they had similar eyes.

“I don’t know what to do,” Klaus said, the words falling from his lips honestly. He should go find his siblings, they were clearly close to finishing the mission, so he should make sure he was visible if they decided to leave. It wouldn’t be good to be left behind.

“Just breathe it in and blow the smoke out kid.”

Klaus didn’t know why he took the offering, or even why he brought it up to his mouth and followed the instructions. Perhaps it was how non-threatening the instructions had seemed, or how the teenager hadn’t snarled them with expectation. Perhaps it was just because Klaus was certain he could walk away and not be chased. The teen come closer, his voice quiet and he told Klaus to breathe in. The laughter as he coughed the smoke out of his mouth wasn’t appreciated but the reassurance that it was only because he hadn’t done it before made Klaus try again. He watched as the teen took a breath, and as the smoke danced from his mouth before trying to mimic the actions.

Time seemed to move slowly, and Klaus found himself laughing at the smallest things around him, not truly laughing, but giggling. He turned to the ghost, frowning at how little time must have passed since he was still fuzzy, normally it didn’t take this long for a ghost to solidify to Klaus, and for the screaming to start. If he squinted, he could see the mouth of the ghost move, but there was no sound. Maybe _this_ ghost was different? Strange things had happened he supposed, his brother made tentacles appear from his stomach after all.

Klaus dissolved into another round of giggles, trying to tell his new friend about his brother’s tentacles, but his friend just shook his head with a grin. He liked his new friend, he listened to him and made him feel happy.

Five’s appearance had been a downer, the joy in the room seemed to disapparate instantly. Klaus was tempted to ignore the hiss of his name, but he knew that he’d pay for it. Klaus patted his friend's knee, standing up from the floor - when did he sit on the floor?

“Hey Klaus,” his friend said, and Klaus’ name sounded wonderful coming from him. “I work the night shift at Griddy’s if you want to stop by.”

“What are you doing?” Five hissed, grabbing hold of Klaus’ arm before he could reply to his buddy. “Put your mask on now.”

Klaus rolled his eyes at his brother, but he did slip his mask back on his face, ready to face the world. More and more ghosts as they passed were just as fuzzy as his friend’s dad had been - this mission must have ended in mass bloodshed.

It was a week after the incident in the museum that Klaus risked sneaking out of the house. He had been told that his training would take place the following night. Klaus didn’t want to take part in that, so he pried his window open, shivering at the chill as he climbed out onto the roof. Perhaps he could run away, his friend might know something. Even if he only had that night, Klaus wanted to feel _happy_ again. He had sat just beyond his window a few times, but the beating of his heart had never been so prominent. Klaus paused, expecting his father to make an appearance or even Pogo.

Nothing happened.

So Klaus continued off into the night. He shimmied down the side of the house, using the drainpipe as a guide. Being light had its advantages, and Reginald had made sure they were able to climb an array of things before they had been deemed mission ready.

He walked through the dim world, feeling lighter than he ever had inside of the Academy, there was no one watching over but the ghosts. The ghosts were keeping their distance for once, their wails still loud but not focused on him.

Klaus knew where Griddy’s was, they had passed the shop a lot on the way to missions, and sometimes they passed the shop when Klaus was heading to the mausoleum. The lights in the different windows had been a distraction technique Klaus had tried out to keep himself calm. It hadn’t worked too well.

Klaus’ new friend - who he discovered was called Aaron, had gestured for Klaus to step into the shop. It turned out that his mom had been growing cannabis after she had left his dad, so Aaron had been happy to share some with Klaus, leaving him happy to walk back home, a small bag in his pocket, to face what was coming.

The others had noticed the smell coming from Klaus’ room over the next few weeks, but none of them had asked him what was happening. It had been Five who had come to Klaus, asking if he had really been sneaking out at night, and where he had been going. That had led to the almost monthly trip as a family to Griddy’s doughnut shop, where Aaron and sometimes Angus would serve them with a smile. It had been Vanya who had handled to money, paying them for the doughnuts they ate and thanking them.

It had been nice to act like normal kids for a night.

* * *

They were thirteen and a half when Five interrupted their breakfast. Klaus had grown more blasé with his recreational relaxant - he had taken to rolling joints under the table, wondering just how far he could push it before Reginald had noticed. Part of Klaus wanted to see the outfall of that, to see how Reginald would react. Maybe it would cause a change in the usual, a break from the same routines they followed.

None of the children had looked up beyond Five’s first interruption. Mealtimes were silent. They were for sustenance, not inane chitchat. Often the radio was on, filling the silence. Five had spoken up. For weeks he had been discussing time travel.

Then he left.

Five was many things; stubborn, arrogant, headstrong. Telling him he wasn’t ready for something was a sure way to make him try. Reginald knew that. Klaus would be the first to point out how to abuse Five’s personality, he had often proclaimed how little Five knew about a topic just to find the answers he was really looking for. Their _studies_ passed by easier with a fountain of knowledge that opened itself with just a tap. Granted, that knowledge was often hidden in disdain.

It had been quiet without him. Klaus maybe missed his brother. They hadn’t spent too much time together outside of training or their late-night doughnuts, but the hint of Five wasn’t there. There would often be a superior air around him, he knew he was better and he didn’t shy away from telling you.

Still, there was nothing.

Klaus didn’t smoke the joint he rolled under the table just in case. He sat through the screams of his name worsening, but he still made no move to dull it. He had even sat in the middle of his room as the night drew in, the candles that Reginald had allowed him lit in a circle around him. The damn Ouija board in front of him - just in case.

Klaus had never made contact with the Ouija board, but his father had been insistent that he tried. The same could be said about the Tarot cards that were sat under Klaus’ pillow. He had never foreseen anything, but he did find them soothing to shuffle. Why he kept them under his pillow he didn’t know, it had started as an attempt to _bond_ with them. It was foolish, but Klaus hadn’t changed the habit. Sometimes Reginald would demand that he bring them to training to reassess his abilities, but Klaus was just waiting for him to give up on it. Klaus still had some trust in the Ouija board, as misguided as it probably was. It resolved around the what-ifs, the possibility that the stories about them may be true and that sometimes contact did happen. Klaus just hadn’t seen it. Then again, Klaus didn’t believe. He hadn’t needed to believe. He saw the truth without the board and the cards.

“Number Four,” Reginald announced, pushing the door open. There was a moment where Klaus froze under his gaze. It wasn’t a training night, so there was no need for him to be there. He hadn’t even come to collect Klaus recently, sending Pogo or Grace to bring him down to the car. Perhaps he had noticed Klaus’ activity, his journey into the real world. A midnight drugs bust, Aaron had told him about them, it could be what was happening.

Klaus wasn’t sure how to read his father’s expression. The silence dragged and neither looked away. There was no need for him to be there. Sure, they had all waited during each mealtime, waiting for Five to jump back into view, but it hadn’t happened. Klaus had waited for the moment he was dreading. Yet the shadow of Five hadn’t begun to appear. It was a long shot but maybe he hadn’t managed to kill himself.

“Has Number Five appeared to you?” Reginald asked, which eased Klaus’ worry that he had been caught bringing weed into the house. It brought up another round of worries to Klaus’ mind, if Reginald had assumed the worst, then Klaus wasn’t just being paranoid sat surrounded by candles.

He shook his head. Reginald didn’t leave. No words had to be spoken for Klaus to do what was expected, it was better to go the road of least resistance sometimes, and he was already prepared for it. Klaus placed his fingertips on the planchette. He let his eyes close, both hoping and not hoping that Five would appear. Klaus willed the wood to move under his fingers. He wished he knew his brother better, that he could seek out the energy in him. Klaus had spent thirteen years with Five, but he didn’t know the slightest thing about him. Sure, Five had enjoyed the sandwich monstrosity that they had created, and he had a soft spot for his siblings. Five had a love for mathematics, although he would deny it and claim to care only because of his ability. Five hated bugs, he wouldn’t show it, but he’d stiffen and glare at anything small and moving until it was out of sight, and he would often double-check that they didn’t reappear. Klaus had released a spider into his room one day, Five had been more annoying than normal, and he had just wanted a little bit of payback. He hadn’t gone back into his room until Grace had checked it and made sure the large spider was gone. Klaus had felt a little bad, but he felt justified in his actions.

He should have been nicer to him. Perhaps Five would still be around if Klaus had tried to talk to him more. Maybe Five would have shown himself by now if Klaus wasn’t so distant.

Klaus opened his eyes, looking down at the board. Nothing. It hadn’t moved, not even an inch.

“Disappointing,” Reginald said blandly and Klaus winced. He had tried. “Continue trying to reach him,” was his parting words as he swept out of the room, leaving Klaus sat in the mock circle he had created.

Stepping over the candles, Klaus put the Ouija board aside, pulling the Tarot cards from under his pillow. It was worth a try he supposed. Sitting back in the ring of fire, Klaus shuffled the cards. He continued until he felt empty, until his feelings had worn away with each slide of the cards against one another, until there was nothing but silence in his mind. Klaus turned his thoughts to Five, thinking over how the morning had gone, the words Five had spat at their father before jumping from the Academy.

The Nine of Cups. A joyous card showing that things are going the way they are meant to. It felt wrong to consider this against what had happened.

The Tower. Unexpected Change, often chaotic and disruptive, but also the possibility of seeing the truth of a situation.

Death. Not necessarily a morbid card, more so one of change, of accepting the past and moving forward.

If his knowledge was still right, it seemed as though Five had done what he wanted. He had travelled and was most likely alive, he was in a place he was meant to be, but the change to that time had been jarring and had left him shaken. Something seemed to be keeping him, and Five couldn’t return, and he would come to accept that fact.

Klaus continued to draw cards, hoping to find some sense inside of them. The Ten of Wands; overworking and struggles. The Three of Swords; pain, heartbreak, loss. The Devil; accepting an unwanted situation and feeling hopeless.

The more cards he drew, the more negative the outlook seemed. Although, Klaus wasn’t sure if that was just his own emotions clouding the cards. It had been a small hope, an impossible one really. These things were useless, toys for people without abilities to use and wish for something more. They may offer some comfort to others, but to Klaus, they only showed more pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I have that ending to purely show off that I kind of know Tarot? Maybe. Does it still break my heart a little? Yes. I have so many feelings right now and they're mostly about the next chapter.


	3. The Storm After Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Five's disappearance to another important moment in Klaus' life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning of perverted ghosts mentioned, there is nothing in detail, just very strongly hinted towards. I pretty much have neon flashing arrows pointed at them. It's in the second segment, so be aware if that makes you feel uneasy.

One by one, the family seemed to give up on Five returning. Klaus continued to reach out for him as the days passed, but he hadn’t completely stopped using weed, so he wasn’t hopeful of finding Five’s spirit and pulling him in. He did continue to check his surroundings, waiting for his brother to fade into existence and join the rest of the hoard following him. He wanted to know what had happened, to at least get a glimpse of his brother. It didn’t happen. Klaus didn’t know when he had stopped trying to reach Five, the day’s slipped and a week between attempts had turned into a month.

The Academy was quiet.

Each number had been silent, and the Academy didn’t attend missions for a week. The alarm had blared once, and they had considered going, but none of them had made a move to collect their masks. It was a unanimous decision made without any agreement or consideration. Reginald hadn’t taken too kindly to them ignoring their duties, they had listened to his lecture for what seemed like hours. The next time their alarm sounded, they had all gone to gather their masks in silence.

Klaus had joined them inside of the mission, his pupils still blown but his siblings hadn’t mentioned it. There were no comments. They were mechanical in their actions. For the first time in a while, they worked as a true team. Luther hadn’t taken control of his strength as much as he would normally do. Diego had been a little less accurate with his knife throws, not as clean as he usually was, _just missing_ key areas so their pain lasted longer. Allison hadn’t held back with her rumour. Ben hadn’t complained about his role in the mission either, which was the most unusual and out of character moment between them all.

Although, Klaus had gotten his first true kill in. It hadn’t been intentional. He had been caught up in the energy of the room. It hadn’t felt the same without Five, and the others were frustrated that they were _performing their duty_ to the world. Klaus wasn’t sure what he had done, his own anger had been pushing him forward. He had taken hold of the gun from one of the men - they had been taught time and time again how to disarm and use a variety of weapons, although they hadn’t been given guns yet, they had disarmed them but not used them. Despite the ghost beside him urging him to, he hadn’t considered using it, but the bang had silenced and stilled the room.

All eyes were on him. Or rather, all eyes were on the gun in his hand. Klaus had been focused on the man that had fallen back, his hand pressing against the rapidly reddening shirt he wore. For a brief second, Klaus wondered how the blood felt coming out of his chest, if it was warm against his fingers or if he had lost the feeling already. Did he know he was dead? Or was he hopeful that they would save him? Was he aware of what was happening? Klaus wasn’t sure which he would prefer.

Diego had made the first move - being the closest to Klaus. He hadn’t been gentle as he disarmed him, the gun clattering to the floor. Perhaps it had been a true concern that made him twist the gun away, concern that Klaus had killed someone - or had wounded someone to the point that they were going to die. Perhaps he had been worried that Klaus would turn on them. It probably wouldn’t have been difficult, to turn the gun, aiming at each sibling until they were free of Reginald. There was a chance they would even thank him. Maybe that was Klaus’ own desire to be free speaking.

Klaus stumbled back as Diego pushed him, and for the first time, Klaus couldn’t get a feel for what the expression on his face had meant. It was unreadable.

Ben had finished the job, getting rid of the last of them before they faced the press.

The siblings had continued to look at Klaus through the short interview and had continued to do so on their way back to the Academy. The mission report had been brief, and Klaus had almost gotten away with his actions - _almost_. Shockingly, it hadn’t been Luther that had given him up. It had been Diego that had grumbled about Klaus getting hold of the gun and shooting someone.

Reginald’s expression had been easier to read. He was curious, calculating as he looked down at a still somewhat high teenager. The others had been dismissed whilst Klaus remained.

“Summon the victim,” he had said, and it grated on Klaus that he had used the term victim. None of the people they went against were victims. They weren’t brought up to view them as victims. It would have been pointless to summon the ghost, he had been screaming how Klaus had killed him the whole ride home. His voice was muffled, but the meaning was pretty clear.

“No innocents were killed,” Klaus said firmly. It was a ridiculous thing to stand by, but it had always been apart of their mission reports. The number of dead, no innocents, any wounds they had received that needed tending. The three reported facts before the detailed breakdown.

“Summon the man you shot,” Reginald snapped. It was a little amusing to see him flustered, it was one of the few things Klaus could manage in a way that the others couldn’t.

“What do you want to know?” Klaus asked, playing along. There was no need, the voice of the ghost had been faint, albeit still clear. It had been almost a whisper when he had first formed.

“His name. Bring him forward.”

“He doesn’t have a name,” Klaus said quickly, ignoring the indignant grumble. “In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s out of reach. Moved on into the light and all that.”

“Number Four,” Reginald snapped.

Klaus’ jaw snapped shut, and he hated how much power his father had over him. A stern word was all it took for Klaus to freeze and listen. Reginald had the ability to make Klaus feel like a child again, and he hated it. He hated feeling out of control. Reginald _had_ to have the control in the household.

“Why did you use the gun?” Reginald asked, clearly going for another angle. It wasn’t a question Klaus knew the answer to. Reginald hadn’t given the kids a gun before, and it had seemed like a calculated reason. They had the mock-guns to practice disarming, and there were guns in the house, but they were off-limits.

“I disarmed him,” Klaus started to explain but Reginald had cut him off.

“Why did you use it?” he repeated, his voice low and firm. Klaus wouldn’t be able to talk his way out of this, he would have to give a reason that was deemed suitable.

“I don’t know,” maybe it was a little suicidal to admit it, but it was the truth. Not everything Klaus did was thought out to the standard that Reginald set. They had learnt the logistics of firing a gun in an emergency, but it had been agreed that Diego’s knives would work around the need for it. Guns brought too much attention to them. “I disarmed him and it fired.”

That was a lie, and Reginald’s narrowed eyes seemed to have caught it as well. Klaus didn’t have a reason, he hadn’t done it on purpose, he hadn’t even recalled aiming at the other man. It had been the bang that had alerted him, but he knew that he had pulled the trigger. He had been the one to make the choice, even if he hadn’t realised it.

What a strange line that Reginald had drawn, that killing in any other capacity was acceptable.

* * *

Klaus hadn’t felt threatened by the spirits that followed him. Not truly. Certainly not outside of the mausoleum. They were annoying, and they were loud. Threatening? It was difficult to be threatening when you were trying to keep hold of body parts. Then it happened. An encounter that had left Klaus shaken.

He had been on a mission, and his siblings had defeated the bad guys and survived the day. Just another part of the routine. Someone else had been killed along with the bad guys though. An innocent, they had said. There was nothing innocent about him.

Klaus had been fourteen and a half when this ghost had found him. Klaus had tried to ignore him, to focus on something else other than the stares and the comments he would hiss under his breath. That ghost seemed to draw more like him, men and women.

They were the first ghosts that made Klaus feel truly _uncomfortable_. He was used to the eyes of the dead following him - he had only experienced short bursts of freedom from the eyes following him, and that hadn’t always been in the pleasantest experience.

This was a first though.

The ghost had been silent since he had appeared. He had followed Klaus, the chill creeping closer when he wasn’t watching. Some ghosts didn’t remember personal space. Klaus hadn’t thought much of it. It continued to happen. It wasn’t just Klaus, although the others didn’t see. They couldn’t feel the cold creep up their back and settle below their necks. It made breathing difficult, the air would hit his lungs, and it was an effort to continue breathing with them so close. He didn’t know how to explain his unease around the ghost.

The moment that it made sense had been when he had gone to relax in the bath.

“ _That_ _’s it, nice and slow_ ,” the man had said, his voice gurgling, as though he was still choking on his blood. Klaus had hesitated, unwilling to continue. He had an idea what the man meant, and the ghosts didn’t often care for nudity, but he seemed to encourage it. It felt wrong. He didn’t manage to get in the bath that day, or the following.

When Klaus had managed to crawl into the bath, he had made sure Vanya’s violin was being played, the music helping drown out the uncomfortable words being gargled be him. It was the quickest bath he had taken in years.

Then more ghosts appeared like the first. The eyes on him seemed calculated, eager and waiting. It made him feel dirty, so much that no matter how much he bathed, it wouldn’t ease. It hadn’t just been Klaus they watched. The night he had overheard them talking about Allison, despite the weed he had smoked, Klaus had escaped the Academy again.

He had walked without thought. Aaron wasn’t working, it was his day off, so Klaus couldn’t escape to his friend. Not that they were _close_ , he had realised that a little too suddenly after he had started to spend more time with the teenager. It had been embarrassing, and Klaus had felt idiotic for thinking he could have a friend. Aaron had been nothing but friendly though, sure, he had laughed at Klaus’ expense, and he had gossipped about his siblings. That was normal teenager behaviour though, wasn’t it? Aaron had talked about his friends, how they were excited to know that he knew Klaus. His friends had offered _products_ for Klaus to take, although he had refused each time Aaron had offered them. Weed was one thing, and Klaus had researched it the best he could in the cold and quiet library at the Academy. The other drugs - pills, weren’t likely to be as harmless as weed had been. It felt too harmful. Too risky.

Klaus had gone back to the Academy, having smoked the rest of the weed he had hidden away in his pockets. The ghosts had still been audible the last time he had tried to block them out, but he had to try. He needed sleep.

It hadn’t worked.

The next night, Klaus had escaped from the Academy and he took Aaron’s offer. It had been a small white pill, it looked harmless. Aaron had told him to sit around the shop, just to make sure that he was alright, which Klaus appreciated. The night had continued to pass, and soon enough, Klaus was stumbling home again, wandering from street to street in the way he was sure that the Academy was seated.

“Hey kid, you’ll want to move away from here,” a lady said, stepping forward into Klaus’ sight. She seemed to be a rather strong presence, but Klaus couldn’t tell if she was actually dead or not. She should be cold, her dress was short, barely covering her body, and her heels were taller than Klaus had ever seen in the daylight.

“Why?” Klaus asked the words felt like cotton in his mouth. He hadn’t realised he had stopped on the corner of the street. He hadn’t anywhere else to do, the Academy was too far away and too cold for him. Plus the ghosts that had chased him away were still there. Still muttering among themselves over which sibling they liked the most. The quietness of Vanya and Ben or the loudness of Klaus and Allison. It was enough to send Klaus away.

“A lot of bad guys would be drawn to you and you’re too young for this scene. Go home, if you’re really interested, come back in a few years when you’re legal,” she tried to explain but the words weren’t making sense to Klaus.

“What do you -” Klaus’ words fell short as the woman turned and walked away from him. A small part of Klaus wanted to stay by the street, just to see what he was being warned against, but there was a hum in his gut that made him continue on into the night. He had faced bad people before, but it was different when he was alone. Klaus was aware enough to admit that he wasn’t in the best place to fight either, the cotton in his mouth seemed to have moved up towards his brain, and his feet were struggling to step forward smoothly. He wouldn’t be able to fight his way out of a bad situation if it came to it.

Instead, Klaus continued his journey back home. The ghosts had been silent in his room, barely a whisper making its way to Klaus’ ears. If Klaus had looked, he would have noticed the emptiness of his room.

* * *

The pills had been both the beginning and the end for Klaus. They opened up so many possibilities but also ruined so much of his life. Aaron had told Klaus that he couldn’t fund the drugs himself and that if he wanted to continue a supply, he had to find the money. Slowly, objects in the Academy disappeared. Klaus had swapped them and pawned them off in exchange for more pills. He was still receiving a discount, but he had been introduced to more than just Aaron. His tentative friendship had turned into an exchange of money and pleasantries. Time had passed and Klaus hadn’t seen Aaron since he had left for college, relying on another _friend_ he had found for his supply.

One night, Klaus had made his escape, forgetting about the skirt he had pulled on in the dark of the night. The man he met made him realise what he had done, and Klaus had a moment of worry as he considered what might have happened from wearing it. Reginald hadn’t taken the idea well, and Klaus had avoided showing anyone else his fashion sense. The man hadn’t taken Klaus’ money. It had been a new deal, one that made him feel as dirty as the stares in his room. A kiss for a pill. Klaus had taken the deal, eager to keep his money for more drugs, saving a bit would get him more at a later date. He had swallowed the pill instantly, scrubbing a hand against his lips in an attempt to rid himself of the feeling. It wasn’t as he remembered, the kiss that made his skin warm. It had felt cold. A pill was a pill though.

Mission’s continued in the same manner as normal, Klaus would be on lookout as the others dealt with the situation. Sometimes Ben would join him, only to leave at the last moment for the final bow, returning with blood and whispers of what could be.

Klaus enjoyed the silence. He grew to like the feeling of flying, of how his body would be left below as his mind soared in the sky. It was calming. Klaus had always preferred to be alone.

The first time Klaus went back to the mausoleum, he had taken pills, managing to keep the loudest of the ghosts at bay as he laid on the cool stone floor.

The second time Klaus went back, he had been left there for longer than normal. Reginald had left him, and it was only in the early hours as Klaus’ hands shook that he found the bag with supplies. Food. Water. It wasn’t much but it would keep him alive. He rationed it, knowing what his father was like, and unaware of how long he would be left.

The third time went much the same as the second, only Klaus had a bucket. He had made a mess the last time, the withdrawal hitting harder than he had thought it would. Klaus had spent days being sick in the mausoleum, the screams of the ghosts drowning the retching. Klaus hadn’t been sure if the uncontrollable shaking was due to the ghosts or the drugs.

Going back to the Academy, Klaus had overdosed. Desperate to cut the screams from his mind, Klaus hadn’t paid attention to what he was putting into his body, uncaring of what would happen. He had woken to Grace’s blank smile, and his room destroyed.

They hadn’t found everything.

He hadn’t been allowed to leave the Academy for a week, even being held back by Grace when the mission alarm blared. He was on house arrest until the _foolishness_ was over.

Each of his siblings had tried to talk to him.

Luther had appealed to his sense of rightness; _we need you and dad will keep you benched until you are ready to be on missions again_. Delusional but he hadn’t expected anything different from Luther. He was too far into the missions. He enjoyed their actions, unaware of how much Klaus hated it.

Diego had taken a more direct route. He had pushed Klaus against the wall, hissing how he was ruining their missions and that he was going to kill himself if he kept it up. Klaus half appreciated it, there was actual feeling behind his words, and the stutter had given it away. Diego had mostly overcome it, but emotions would often bring it out. Old habits dying hard.

Allison had welcomed Klaus into her sanctuary. He had left with black nails, and a frown, but they continued to meet in her room and paint each other’s nails. Klaus just ignored the hints and the slight lecturing tone as she talked about the drugs. She hadn’t tried to rumour him though. Surprising, but Klaus was grateful.

Ben hadn’t said much, but he had left his door open more often than he usually did. The warmth inviting and he would offer a smile to Klaus as he passed. He hadn’t truly tried to talk to him though, and Klaus still felt unable to make that initial contact.

Vanya had been similar, but Klaus hadn’t minded moving into her room as she played music. He would often settle down on the floor, his back against her bed as she played her violin, just listening to the music fill the silence. He would applaud her efforts, she had been getting better. The rustling of the paper was almost as useful as the music.

There had been another mission, Klaus managing to find himself alone during the alarms ringing. Grace wasn’t anywhere to be found, Vanya had been playing her music. Klaus was still on house arrest, but that didn’t stop him from slipping out of the Academy.

He had met with Trigger - Aaron’s friend, who would often stand watch in a secluded part of town. He had tattoos and a permanent frown, but Klaus didn’t mind. He had refused to let his family make a dent in his collection again. He had found places in the Academy to hide the drugs, in books in the library, in statues. Even taped to the underside of tables and drawers. It had been a long week as he had set it up.

The others hadn’t said anything about Klaus erratic behaviour on their return, but the disappointment was visible in the air as he sat at the table to eat. Allison still opened her room to paint his nails, and Diego still pushed Klaus when he stumbled and lost his balance as they trained. Klaus had been high when Luther lectured him, and when Reginald had done similarly. Ben and Vanya hadn’t changed their behaviours, still allowing their rooms to be open to him if he wanted to spend time with them.

Klaus had imposed on Ben rarely, mostly when he was too high to remember why he kept his distance. Sometimes it was soothing to have Ben sat across his room, typically on his bed or the chair as Klaus laid on the floor. He didn’t have to talk, and he didn’t have the need to talk with his ghosts missing from view. He was content to lay on Ben’s floor, basking in the warmth that would settle into his bones.

* * *

Ben had sat up in his bed, frowning, unsure of what had woken him. The monsters inside of him were moving restlessly, and Ben couldn’t stay in bed, not when they were shifting within him, almost asking to come out.

 _Something was wrong_. Ben followed his instinct and he stepped out of bed, shivering at the cold floor beneath his feet. He wouldn’t let the monsters out, not here, and not without reason. There were muffled voices from behind his door, he only noticed as he moved closer. They were still muffled, but something had been what woke him up, and Ben was fairly sure that the monsters within him were only part of the issue.

Ben pressed his head to the door, but the words being spoken were still too muffled to make out. Considering a possible intruder, Ben turned the door handle, pulling the door open barely an inch to listen to the words being spoken.

“I’ll just leave, we’re almost eighteen, you can’t stop me.”

 _Klaus_. Ben glanced behind him, frowning at the clock that illuminated a small portion of his room. It was three in the morning. That much wasn’t too shocking, Klaus had been sneaking out after curfew (which was mostly just bedtime for them) and returning just long enough to get a few hours of sleep. He had only woken them up a few times, and that was closer to the time when Five had disappeared. He hadn’t been careful in coming home, especially when he had started to really use drugs. It was uncomfortable to think about, and how they hadn’t done anything to stop him. Klaus wouldn’t have allowed it, and Ben wasn’t one to stand out of the crowd.

Klaus threatening to leave at this time of night was unusual - Klaus being loud at this time was unusual. Ben was almost certain that Klaus had considered leaving many times over the years. Ben had considered it himself, but he knew he would be brought back if he was found. As soon as their birthday came, that wouldn’t be an issue though, and Klaus would probably leave that night if he had the chance.

“You will come back, I can guarantee it,” Reginald said coolly, there was an arrogant tone to his words and it made Ben frown to hear it despite it not being directed towards him. The way Reginald spoke was almost the same way he had told Ben he would continue to dispose of the offenders during their missions.

“You don’t know nothing old man,” Klaus hissed. Ben could hear Reginald’s voice in the back of his mind warning him that allowing anger to take over his thought process would lead to defeat, but that didn’t seem to be stopping Klaus. Although, Klaus did seem to live to rebel, even as a child he would actively go against Reginald’s teachings. It was something Ben admired when Klaus wasn’t putting himself at risk.

“If you leave your siblings behind, they will end up dead Number Four. You need to reach your potential for their survival, we have discussed this.”

Ben winced in his room, Reginald had continuously spoken about wasted potential when Klaus had reached a point of showing just how much he had given up. Those lectures had seemed to die off, but whenever they came back, it would last for hours.

Ben couldn’t help but wonder what Klaus had done to set this off. It was no secret that he snuck out at night. Reginald had even stopped questioning Klaus’ late entrances to breakfast, merely sneering when the teenager would show himself if at all. It wasn’t uncommon for Klaus to miss breakfast some mornings.

“If they end up dead, it’ll be your doing,” Klaus' voice was dark, almost as though he was threatening their father.

“You are a lost cause and the world will burn for it.”

“Shut up!” Klaus yelled, making Ben flinch back away from the door. That would have been loud enough to hear clearly without the gap letting the sound in. Again, Ben couldn’t imagine how those words would affect Klaus, just hearing the stern, no-nonsense way their father had spoken made it sound truthful. It made Ben’s heart quicken just hearing it second-hand, he wouldn’t have been able to interrupt him, none of them would have.

“I don’t do anything!” Klaus added.

“Precisely. But you should,” Reginald responded in such a calm contrast to Klaus’ rising annoyance. “You are putting the whole world at risk for this nonsense.”

“This nonsense?” Klaus repeated, his voice still loud in the dark hall, creeping to echo around Ben’s room. He had taken a slightly hysterical tone, and that same voice in his mind reminded Ben that his anger could be deadly. Ben didn’t know what to expect, but the sourness in his stomach that aided the wriggling monsters had grown cold, it was as though ice was moving through his stomach. “I never asked for this nonsense! None of us did! You _bought_ us and turned us into this.”

“Number Four, calm yourself now,” Reginald snapped, his voice barely rising to meet Klaus’ own volume, but he stood out against Klaus all the same. It had been a while since Ben had heard their father’s voice as loud as he made it. They hadn’t given him a reason to raise his voice, not for a while.

“Five hated you,” Klaus hissed and Ben’s heart skipped at the mention of their brother. _No one_ mentioned him. “We all do. Everyone will be gone before our ninetieth birthday, I guarantee it.”

“You do not understand what you are talking about,” Reginald stated. “We will talk in the morning after you have sobered up.”

“Fuck you,” Klaus snapped, his voice was steadily growing in volume again, and Ben considered closing his door completely and pretending that the night was just a dream. He wanted to. Then Klaus continued on; “Luther applied for college you know, he’s still delusional about you but he still wants to get away. You can only make him lift his max so many times and you’ve done that for years. Do you even know how many nights he couldn’t make it to bed because he just collapsed on the floor and couldn’t get back up?”

“Number Four,” Reginald warned, and Ben could hear the anger in his voice. Ben wasn’t sure that Klaus was speaking the truth, but something of it must have resonated with the older man. How had Klaus known? It wasn’t as though Luther would say anything.

“Diego is thinking of joining the police, you know, those useless fools we help,” Klaus said, and Ben could picture the grin on his face - too sharp and too mean-spirited. “He still can’t have a bath, every-time he’s tried he thinks he’ll be stuck there until you let him out again. I suppose it’s a good thing you didn’t think him holding his breath was useful, throwing things is easier to practice than drowning.”

“Number Four, enough,” there was a shake to Reginald’s voice.

Ben was focused on Klaus’ words though, hoping they were untruthful, but they felt true. There was so much weight behind his words and Reginald’s increasing unease seemed to add more validity to what Klaus was saying. Ben didn’t know how Klaus could know these things - _if_ they were true. Diego had seemed shaken after his training when they were younger, and suddenly his attitude seemed to change to a more positive mindset to training. It had been strange, but they all had assumed that Diego’s control had been the catalyst in his enjoyment of training.

“Allison already has sent off applications too,” Klaus continued, ignoring the interruption. Ben knew this to be true, he had overheard her talking about her latest tape that she had sent off, how excited and nervous she was for people to see her as an actress.

“You will be quiet!” Reginald demanded.

“She wants to be an actress, after all. She can’t do that if you keep abusing her voice in training until she can’t talk like -”

Klaus’ voice came to a halt as a slap sounded. There was a ragged gasp that almost went unheard to Ben’s ears.

“It’s been a while since you hit me,” Klaus hissed, and Ben’s mind convinced himself of the air cooling around him. “If anyone in this house dies, it’ll be your fault. One of us will die, and you know it. You made us like this, you broke us and anything that happens will be your doing, you abused us to death… and I would know.”

Ben could barely hear Klaus’ voice, but there was a restlessness that increased inside of him. He felt the urge to release the monsters to stop what was happening. A part of him knew Klaus’ words were true, the monsters had perked up, almost hissing inside of him at the words, but it seemed impossible. Ben had thought something similar, especially in the days that the monsters were more difficult to control and keep at bay. He assumed that he would be the cause for others being killed, and he didn’t know how he would handle that.

“Go to your room this instant,” Reginald demanded, and Ben couldn’t dismiss the tremor in his voice. It had been how straight-toned Klaus had spoken, the words resonating and so sure of himself.

“Why should I? You’re the one that doesn’t care about anyone else so I’m just learning from my dad! I didn’t even tell you about how Five had plans all those years ago,” Klaus laughed, but it was almost empty - it was the fakest Ben had ever heard his brother. It was eerie to hear him like this, yet he couldn’t bring himself to turn away. “He had looked into colleges as well, he was so thankful for you letting him develop his jumps, because the more you pushed him, the closer he was to leaving. He didn’t care that he couldn’t move after training. I heard that he smiled so wide when he jumped for the last time, finally free and sure he was leaving you behind.” Klaus’ voice seemed to rise with each word, almost vibrating around the house and into Ben’s room. He felt silly for thinking it, but it felt like untapped power, like how Allison’s words would often vibrate in the air as she spoke those trigger words.

“Number Four!”

“I know, _shut up Number Four_ , _training Number Four_ , _grow up Number Four_. You need some new material,” Klaus huffed, but there was a lightness returning to his voice that made Ben relax. The lighter tone, Ben could handle. It felt safer than the calm and calculated tone he had been using - almost too much like Reginald’s own tone during training sessions.

There was silence for a while, and Ben imagined the two of them staring at each other, refusing to be the first that breaks the silence. Klaus’ baiting seemed to have come to a stop - and Ben was thankful. At least it meant that his secrets were not at risk of being exposed. Not that Ben was certain Klaus _had_ been speaking the truth.

“Follow me Number Four,” Reginald was the one to break the silence, and Ben held his breath, expecting Klaus to continue on his tirade. It didn’t happen.

“Whatever you say daddio,” Klaus chuckled.

The footsteps seemed to fade and Ben felt able to breathe again. The silence seemed to last, thick and overwhelming. He didn’t go back to sleep that night, waiting for the soft footfalls in the hall to sound, showing that Klaus had snuck back into bed. It didn’t come.

* * *

“Sit.”

Klaus did as he was told. He had expected to be lead out of the Academy and to the mausoleum. It hadn’t been his punishment in a while, Reginald had seemed to have given up on Klaus. They had fallen into a nonverbal agreement, Klaus would stop being loud and a distraction and Reginald would leave him alone. It seemed he had learnt that Klaus wouldn’t stop taking drugs just because it was _forbidden_.

“You continue to baffle me Number Four,” Reginald began, and Klaus rolled his eyes. Lecture time, it seemed. He was too sober to handle a lecture. If only Klaus had known this would happen, he would have taken another pill, it might have pulled him through the lecture.

The words blurred together as Klaus looked around the office they were forbidden from entering. Perhaps he should feel honoured to be in the sacred room, but he was looking from trinket to trinket. Perhaps he could make his way back when the alarm rang, surely there was something that would sell for a pretty penny that he could use for a greater purpose. It couldn’t be something too obvious, Reginald would come after him. Klaus wasn’t sure he wanted that wrath on him.

BANG.

Klaus startled as Reginald’s hand slapped against his desk. He looked livid. Eyes narrowed and a sneer on his face. Clearly, Klaus had zoned out for longer than he had thought. There was a faint light seeping in through the curtains. Had he been talking the whole time? It was possible. It wouldn’t be the first time Klaus had been lectured at for hours.

Although, the last time had been when Klaus had attempted something to keep the spirits at bay. Burning sage was a common way to rid a place of negative energy and spirits. Klaus had been desperate enough that he had tried it. He had walked through the Academy, sage burning, the smoke _clearing_ the air. It had done nothing but get him in trouble. Reginald had forbidden him from fire, which had only made Klaus burn paper in his room.

“Sir, Frank Tibbins is here for you,” Grace interrupted. Behind her was a man, he looked tired, perhaps he had been woken up to come here. It wouldn’t be the first time Reginald had abused his power that way.

“Good, this is your subject,” he gestured to Klaus. He hadn’t acknowledged the man fully, his eyes trained on Klaus. “You recall what we agreed, correct?”

“Ah, yes Sir,” the man stumbled over the words. A small snide part of Klaus wondered just how this man had managed a conversation with his father before this, as he seemed shaken in his presence. He allowed himself to relent, casting a look over the man. He was short, slightly overweight and tattooed. There were strange blob creatures down his arm, ones that Klaus might have seen in passing but they were still alien to him. Aaron had found it funny how little Klaus had known, pop culture he had called it, all something foreign to him.

“Four, hands out, palms facing upwards.”

Klaus listened. He was still buzzed enough that he didn’t question _why_ he had to have his hands out. It was easier to go with the ridiculousness than to fight it at that moment. Another look over to Frank Tibbins made something familiar twist in his stomach. The room was silent as the man continued to set up, and it brought back the memories even more as each thing was unloaded and set up on the table. It would be moved closer, Klaus knew that. It was one of the few easily moved tables that were often set up in their medical room.

Klaus’ hands closed. They were sweaty. At some point, Klaus’ mouth had dried.

Reginald hadn’t said anything, but he was watching Klaus. It was almost smug, and Klaus got the sense that things would only get worse, but he didn’t _want_ to give his father the satisfaction that night.

Swallowing, Klaus opened his hands again. He wouldn’t be able to get out of the situation, he knew that. Grace was still hovering at the doorway, no doubt under orders to stop him from leaving. Reginald wouldn’t hesitate to have her hold him down either as a last resort. It would be a last resort, Reginald prided himself on their image, and he would try to coerce Klaus into going along with careful threats before he gave in and had him restrained.

He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of seeing Klaus struggle. He only hoped that the buzz didn’t leave his body until afterwards. Klaus didn’t want to consider going through it sober. He was already more aware than he’d like to be.

The pain had been almost familiar, in a grounding way. He hadn’t looked down at his palms as the man worked. He hadn’t had a choice. Again.

He hadn’t even looked as his palms were being wrapped. He could have seen, the wrapping see-through, but again, he had refused. Klaus didn’t want to know what was branded into his skin again. He just knew he wouldn’t be able to escape his fate. He would forever be who Reginald had made him.

There had been no time to go to bed, he hadn’t been allowed to his room afterwards. Ushered into the dining area, he waited for his siblings. His hands stung, the pain keeping him in place, refusing to allow him an escape into his mind. The drugs had worn off, almost an hour into the ink being soaked into his skin. Still, the ghosts had been silent until the job had been completed.

They were almost deafening when they spoke. Even before they had begun to yell. Klaus had clenched his jaw tight to avoid screaming along with them. That was _never_ accepted. Their yells and pleads had followed him and stuck with him as he waited for breakfast.

His hands burnt.

The others joined him, their eyes concerned and wary. No doubt Reginald had said something - or him being the first awake was cause for concern. Klaus offered his siblings a smile.

“What happened to your hands?” Allison. He wasn’t surprised she was the first to ask.

He looked down in mock-surprise. His palms burnt more as he opened them. _HELLO. GOODBYE._ He felt sick.

“These?” Klaus asked, trying to keep that cheery tone. “I don’t know, last night was a blur.”

Klaus didn’t look away. He wanted to cry, but also laugh at the absurdity of it all. He wouldn’t ever be free. It was the same font as his Ouija board, he realised. He hadn’t touched it lately, given up that Five would reach out.

The others had found Klaus after breakfast, asking why he had words tattooed into his palms, and Klaus almost told them the truth. He almost told them how Reginald had clearly been planning it for a while, how he had kept eye contract as the needle tainted him even further. How the words were mocking his desire to escape.

“I thought it’d be funny,” Klaus says instead. The words were almost foggy in his mind. “Dad wants me to accept my power, what more can I do then become a living Ouija board?” his laugh sounded off, perhaps a little hysterical. It said a lot that his siblings didn’t notice. They just shoot their heads and chuckled. Diego had hit his shoulder, congratulating him on getting one up on dad, whilst Luther had scowled.

Klaus felt like he was drowning in the screams around him.

He had retreated to his room once they had left, hands shaking. His breath was short and quick, the grounding energy of the pain in his palms seemed to be pulling him deeper into the ground. There was no ease with the feeling, not as it had been. Fingernails scraped against his throat as he tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t come. The ghosts seemed to multiple, surrounding him and drawing closer. _He couldn_ _’t breathe_. The screams were deafening.

Shaking hands found a stash of pills, one by one they entered his mouth. Moving on autopilot, Klaus waited. He waited for the pills to stop the ghosts. For them to fade from view and _stop_.

More pills were swallowed around the dryness of his throat.

The ghosts didn’t fade, but their voices did quieten. The screams of the damned had turned into a normal level of speech, not even the whispers he had met with weed. Klaus’ hands had shaken as he reached for the weed he had left, it wasn’t much, but he hoped it would help.

It didn’t.

That night Klaus had left the Academy, hoping to find something more. Something that would ease the pressure building around him and make the ghosts just _stop_ again. He couldn’t handle their presence, not like this. Not when it seemed as though his body was one exposed nerve.

* * *

Ben Hargreeves had seen his brother in many different states. He had seen him shaking in fear, jumping with joy, and living life as best as he could. So it was a little strange to see him as still as he was now. Even in the scariest of moments, he had never stopped moving, his brother had always been making some movement, some noise. Klaus Hargreeves had always been in constant motion, and Ben had struggled to understand why. Klaus stared right at Ben, and Ben wished he could feel the heat of the room and how the chill always seemed to be surrounding Klaus.

As kids, there would be a running joke that Klaus’ personality made up for his cold heart, there was even another snide comment about how Klaus would never be able to love anyone with how dead inside he was. Ben had to admit that he had chuckled with the others at the comments.

As children, Klaus wasn’t somebody approachable, there was something about him that felt unnatural. Ben understood the feeling, the others would avoid him a lot, the heat coming from him acting as a barrier. Looking back on their youths, Ben recalls Klaus’ rare sighs of relief when he would find Ben sat in a room he had entered. It was one of the few times that they had been alone, and the air was normally so thick between them, the heat and the cold clashing and trying to battle. There was a kinship between the two, almost an understanding of _more_. The Horror was soothed with the chill, even if they tried to outdo it, there was something comforting by being in the room with Klaus, but the thought of those creatures liking Klaus made it all the more difficult to reach out. Ben hated them, and now they weren’t there. He almost missed the feeling of them. It was strange, a part of him was missing, more so than he had expected when he sought out Klaus.

“Oh,” there was understanding in Klaus’ eyes, and his hand reached out towards Ben, but he obviously thought better of it. Klaus pulled his outstretched hand to his chest, his lips frantically moving, but no sound escaping. It was such a contrast to what Ben remembered. Perhaps this is what dying was like; the world changes from what you knew and you’re left feeling out of place.

A shrill laugh left Klaus, and it chilled Ben. All he felt was the cold. There was no burning inside of him, and Klaus felt like a beacon.

“I knew it,” Klaus muttered, his voice managing to echo in the silence, despite the low volume. “He’s going to kill us all.”


	4. After Ben.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben's death hit them all hard, but this is Klaus' response to Ben's death. We look through the weeks following the tragedy to his first year out of the Academy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy this is about three weeks later than planned, but uni was really kicking me. I'm free for a while though, so I have time to focus on this. There is a slight chance another chapter will be added, bring it up to 8 and not 7, but that depends on how the next one goes. I have a lot of half-written bits that need to be written out before we get to the nice chapter (which I keep adding things to and is already larger than any of the others).
> 
> So the start of this chapter is what I originally started with when I started this story, and then baby-Klaus took over.

Klaus hated his ability, Ben learnt that fact very quickly. He couldn’t blame him, it was sickening to see what was hidden from view. It was another reason he desperately clutched to Klaus, trying his best to keep his distance but almost unable to stray too far away. He still couldn’t bring himself to even think the words, but Klaus was all he had left.

“Let’s try again,” Klaus huffed. They had been sat on the floor of Ben’s room for hours. Klaus’ hands shook, desperate for more than the cigarettes would grant him, but he stopped himself, he hadn’t even touched the weed he had hidden below his drawer. Ben was glad. It had only been a few days, but the comfort of Klaus being _there_ helped him. He couldn’t bear to look over the others, Allison had spent the days with Luther, both crying and holding each other. Diego had been pushing himself and training more than he typically did, cursing and wiping the tears and sweat away from his face periodically. Vanya was almost the worst. The few times that Ben had looked in on her, typically in the middle of the night, she had been laid on her bed, eyes open and glassy as she stared at the ceiling. It was unnerving, more so than when Klaus had woken up in the middle of the night, eyes wide and pupils blown as he stared at Ben, his chest heaving until he shook himself, seemingly waking up. Those nights, Klaus would offer Ben a grin, that same smirk that typically graced his face as he climbed out of bed and went off in search for food. Vanya hadn’t taken the news of Ben’s death well, and Ben wanted to comfort her, hoping that it would be one of the rare days that Vanya wouldn’t shy away or hesitate in Ben’s presence.

“Come on Benny-Boy,” Klaus said in a sing-song tone, “we don’t have long until daddy comes to investigate who is sullying your shrine.”

Ben hadn’t said anything to Klaus yet, almost scared to break the illusion of whatever this was. So he did as Klaus wanted, he offered his hands, hoping that maybe this time it would work.

It didn’t.

A whole week they tried. Day after day, they would sit in Ben’s room, with various items around Klaus as he tried to pull Ben forward, just to offer some comfort to their siblings. It was strange to watch Klaus in his element, he wondered how often the Tarot and the Ouija board offered answers, surely it had to happen. Klaus was stubborn but not foolish in what he did. Ben had tried to use them - he truly had. It hadn’t worked once. Klaus had given up on those tools quickly, scowling as he threw them into the corner of Ben’s room that he would often lay in when he spent time there. It was Klaus’ corner, not that Ben had told him that. It was near the door, but still far enough into the room that Ben had felt his company. He missed feeling.

Klaus had watched as Ben’s body had been lowered into the ground - he had given in to temptation, the weed had called too strongly to him. Ben hadn’t said anything when they went back to his room. Klaus knew that the others were glaring through the funeral, the smell oozing from him destroying the illusion of sobriety.

Diego found them.

“What are you doing in here?” he had hissed, already striding forward to force Klaus out of Ben’s space. Ben watched, just hoping for Klaus to say _anything_. Maybe he wasn’t actually seeing Ben, and Ben was just trying to reach him as Klaus tried to reach him. That thought scared him more than he wanted to admit. At least with Klaus seeing Ben, he knew that he wasn’t alone. Sure, there was a sense of freedom without the eldritch monsters attached to him, but Ben didn’t want to be alone.

* * *

Ben had been in Klaus’ room daily and he had never understood some of the nonsense that Klaus had written over the walls. There were drawings, but most of it was words. Ben hadn’t asked, still hesitant to say anything that may prove his fear true. What if Klaus didn’t respond?

_Seven. Seven demons. Seven killed me._

_Six monsters death_

_Who am I._

_Let me go._

_My cats need me. Please help me find her._

_He killed me, that man, the one there, he did it._

_Don_ _’t feed the animals._

_Tell me the truth._

_Seven small kids, one soon to go._

There were so many sentences that didn’t make sense if you tried to put them together. The words felt heavy in his mind when he read them, that last sentence made Ben feel strange, almost nauseated. Did Klaus know what would happen? Or was it a coincidence? Ben didn’t think Klaus would sit back as he died, but he couldn’t help that bit of doubt within him. Their childhood had been defining for each member of the Umbrella Academy. Luther was stubborn, unwilling to share or listen to others. Diego was short-tempered, easy to anger and he rarely listened to anyone. Allison was ruthless, always ready to reach for more. Klaus, he was dead inside, empty smiles and words making up for nothingness that he was. Five - he was stubborn and smart, his ego had always been his biggest challenge. Ben, well Ben wasn’t sure what the other’s said about him behind his back, surely it was something surrounding The Horror, how he would rip anything apart to keep himself safe. Vanya, well she was alone, ordinary and out of place in the Academy.

Did Klaus know of Ben’s coming death? Did he care so little that he just smiled and said ‘I knew it’ when he saw the ghost appear? Ben hoped he was twisting what had happened, but that doubt was sticking. It stuck to him.

“ _The world burns. The world burns. The world burns around us_ ,” another ghost was muttering in the corner. She was curled in on herself, the words blurring together as she rocked in place.

Klaus hissed, glaring over to her. His eyes lingered on Ben for a moment before he pulled them away. It had been a week since they last tried to bring Ben forward. There were still moments where Klaus would pause by Ben’s room, but he hadn’t entered. The last day that Klaus had tried something, he had shaken so much that Ben had feared for Klaus’ life. He had walked to Reginald's study, the shaking limited to his hands when he was allowed entry.

“What do you want Number Four?” Reginald had asked, not looking up from his book as he addressed Klaus.

“I want to develop my powers,” Klaus said, and Ben was surprised at the lack of emotion in his voice. There was that emptiness that they had all joked about, but never had actually seen from him.

“Why would I waste my time with you?” Reginald still hadn’t glanced at his adopted son.

“I see Six,” Klaus admitted, he didn’t use Ben’s name, knowing that it wouldn’t be appreciated. The announcement made Ben’s chest ease. He felt less fear hearing the words. “I have tried to make contact but it won’t work.”

“I see,” Reginald’s eyes had flickered to Klaus and he had taken in just what this teenager looked like. It hadn’t been a pretty picture, Klaus had been a mess, barely a week sober, dark circles colouring his eyes. Typically, Klaus looked thin but happy, none of that was present in front of Reginald. Rather, Klaus looked like he would collapse if the wind blew his way. Ben doubted any training would help Klaus, he doubted Klaus would survive it as he was. “If you are serious about this, we will attempt progress once. Next week, Pogo will give you the date.”

A shiver hit Klaus, and the shaking that Ben had seen in the halls of the house returned for a second. Swallowing, Klaus seemed to have fought back his reaction, he nodded before turning to leave. Reginald stopped his exit.

“If you are not present at eleven, I will not seek you. You will not be given another chance. This is your final chance Number Four.”

Klaus had nodded again, but Ben could see his face. Klaus had been scared. Terrified.

“ _The world burns_! _The world burns around us_!” Ben shot a look over to the woman shaking in the corner. That single shout had turned into more. Her mantra grew louder and Ben wanted to beg her to stop. It wouldn’t work. He had tried it once, one night when Klaus was asleep. Ben hadn’t wanted to wake him, Klaus had barely slept and the ghosts wouldn’t stop making noise. It was so loud. Klaus had woken up because no one could sleep through screams of their own name.

“The world burns,” Klaus repeated, a slightly manic tone to his voice. Pogo had told him that tonight was the night, and Klaus’ whole persona had changed since the news.

A giggle.

Klaus echoed the screams of the woman for a few minutes, and Ben couldn’t help but wonder if Klaus had lost his mind. The minutes passed, and instead of continuing the mantra, Klaus pulled himself from his bed, grabbing a pen from the floor and added _The world burns around us_ to his wall.

Looking over the different sentences that did not match, Ben wondered just how often this happened. Some quotes were overlapped with other quotes, there were even illegible writing added in areas of the room. Perhaps other languages as well, not that Ben had ever successfully learnt how to read other languages. He could speak a handful in an amateurish way, but nothing to truly get by.

“Benny-Boy, stay here tonight,” Klaus had asked when the time came for Klaus to meet their father. He had repeated himself when Ben had gone to follow him. It was an instinct to follow rather than an attempt to disobey Klaus. The second time Klaus had repeated himself, Ben forced himself to stop. Klaus had seemed to fade in the past week. There was less energy around him, and unless he was around the other living in the house, Klaus would be more subdued. It was still strange for Ben to see Klaus like this. He missed the carefree image he was used to seeing in Klaus, it was eerie to see Klaus like this.

It was nothing compared to what Klaus was like when he did return.

Klaus had willingly walked to the Mausoleum, ignoring Reginald’s sneer. They didn’t share any words until they reached their destination.

“Do not cower,” Reginald had said in that haughty tone of his. “If you survive the next few hours, we’ll move onward.”

Klaus had nodded, ready to face his demons again. It had been years since he had been there, but he would do it for Ben. Ben was worth it. Klaus could be strong for him.

Or so he thought.

Ben watched helplessly as Klaus entered the room. There was no awareness in him. His eyes hadn’t gone to Ben. He didn’t say hi, or offer a smile. He just sat on his bed, staring at the wall. Ben doubted Klaus was reading the writing he had put there, but he hoped that Klaus was just reading.

Ben couldn’t remember a time where Klaus had acted like this. Sure, the other teen had moments where he would grow sombre and step back from the rest of the siblings, but it was never like _this_. Or was it? Did none of them realise? That couldn’t be true. Klaus was _Klaus_. Ben hadn’t been sure that Klaus felt anything but joy in his life, despite the jokes they shared that spoke otherwise. He had laughed and shrieked encouragements during training. Side-stepping their siblings with that smirk, always proud when the attention on his grew sour. Klaus had seemed to take pride in making others annoyed, he had been ruthless at times where he had been pushed into similar states. Klaus was kind but his words were barbs, he held grudges and he had a way of knowing just the thing you were keeping secret.

But how could anyone miss this? Klaus looked pale, his eyes hollow and his face _wrong_. Ben rarely saw his brother without a smile or a sneer.

“ _Klaus_?” Ben said. It was the first time he had spoken, he couldn’t hold back. Klaus had sat on his bed for over an hour. Klaus hadn’t done more than blink in that time. Ben wasn’t sure if he was breathing. Klaus looked every bit like the ghosts around him. Only silent. “ _Klaus_?” Ben repeated, his voice louder, he knew that there was a desperate tone to his words, but Klaus still didn’t react.

The sun had started to shine through the window, the birds' chirp's growing more frequent.

Still no reaction.

* * *

“Come on Ben, I’m fine with only seeing them at weddings and funerals - although maybe before funerals if you’re the example they follow,” Klaus giggled.

“Master Klaus.”

Klaus spun, the skirt he wore flaring out slightly in the movement. His face was quickly schooled into an innocent expression, but Ben saw how Pogo’s eyes narrowed. Pogo knew them all well, and he had always managed to see beneath the facades they put on.

“Where are you going?” the ape asked.

“ _At least wait until our birthday_ ,” Ben begged. He had asked Klaus this several times, and he knew it was a hopeless thought. Their birthday was months away still, and Klaus was already restlessly planning his next step. “ _Ask Pogo for help_?” he suggested, it was unlikely to work, but it was worth the shot. “ _Please don_ _’t do this_.”

“I’m just going to a walk Poe,” Klaus grinned.

Ben sighed.

“With your belongings?” Pogo asked, ignoring the nickname that Klaus had graciously given him.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Klaus promised, but Ben knew it was a lie. He had seen Klaus lie so often in the past month, and perhaps if he didn’t hear Klaus’ plan, he may have believed the words. Even now, he _wanted_ to believe the words.

“For weddings and funerals?” Pogo asked.

Klaus’ smile sharpened, but Pogo didn’t retreat. The siblings had learnt to back off a little with that sharped smile, one that promised a secret told, or an insecurity exposed. Pogo was braver than the siblings, and it was something Ben had looked up to.

“I’m not the only one with plans,” Klaus promised. “I’m just the second to act on them.”

Klaus ignored Pogo calling his name as he strode away. He only had a singular bag with him, and whilst Ben knew that Klaus had packed some valuable belongings, he wasn’t sure it would be enough to sustain him.

He was right.

* * *

It hadn’t been easy. Klaus was able to admit that.

That first night had been scary, he hadn’t spent a full night away from the Academy, and he had stumbled around a few different hotels, consistently being turned away for being too young, or for not having a form of ID. Finally, he had found a motel. Ben had pleaded for Klaus to turn around and go back home, saying that it didn’t look safe to stay there, but Klaus had persisted. The lady that gave him a room offered him a sad smile and told him that she would be working all night if he needed any help. Klaus had only enough for a single night, the money he had brought with him being too little.

Klaus hadn’t been able to sleep that night. He had sat across from Ben on the bed, counting out the money he had leftover after renting the room. His stomach had grumbled, but Klaus’ priority was on a safe place to sleep. A lot could happen on the streets, he had seen some of it on his journey’s out during the years.

“Are you ok kid?” the lady that had checked him in asked. She had that same sad look on her face.

“Yeah, just can’t sleep,” Klaus had replied. “Got hungry,” he added as he wandered over to the vending machine. He could spare a few dollars, or Ben had said he could. Klaus tried not to think about what sparing a few dollars from the money that wouldn’t get him another night at the cheapest place he had come across meant, but he had admitted that his hunger would only get worse if he ignored it.

“Is there anyone waiting for you? I can get you a cup of tea or coffee, the tea might help you sleep?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“You wouldn’t be, what do you want?” she asked.

Klaus sent Ben a look, but all he did was shrug, as perplexed as Klaus was.

“Tea, if you don’t mind,” he said. He sat on the cheap chair, and the lady came to join him after a few minutes, passing a warm cup over. Klaus held it, letting the heat stain his hands.

“I don’t normally see kids as young as you,” she started, that same sad expression on her face. She pushed the plate that she had brought with his drink over to him on the small table. It held a handful of cookies. “Is there someone waiting for you?”

“ _I_ _’m not sure I like where this is going_ ,” Ben frowned. “ _It sounds kidnapper-y_.”

“I just needed time away from my family,” Klaus explained, ignoring Ben’s hiss to shut up. “Things got a little difficult at home, and I just wanted a night to myself.” It was close to the truth but different enough that it shouldn’t alarm her. “They know I’m here, we had it all worked out a while ago. Troubled teenagers and all that.” Klaus waved his hand, trying to pass it off as nothing. He had offered her a story, and a reason to let him leave without any interference.

“So you are by yourself tonight?” she pressed. She reached for a cookie, breaking pieces off with her fingers before bringing them to her mouth. Klaus took a sip of his tea, the warmth slid down his throat. It was nice, a little warm, Klaus enjoyed eating and drinking something hot, it helped boost his temperature a little, making the moments feel a little more real.

“Why do you ask?” Klaus asked, he had taken Ben’s words to heart. He had already told the lady he was alone, but he supposed he still had the element of surprise with his past training. He doubted that she would be able to catch him unaware, even if he had taken a singular pill earlier. He had been on missions with worse in his body, so he didn’t worry. Klaus had yet to go back to the rate he had taken the pills before, half terrified that he would lose sight of Ben and not be able to see him again.

“I see a lot of young girls here,” she explained, and Klaus had no concern of her turning against him, even if her speech hadn’t been as _friendly_ as she may have hoped. “Not many boys like yourself but sometimes they do come in. I’ve seen so many kids your age leave this place with bruises, so I get a little protective sometimes.”

Klaus wasn’t as naive as he had been when he ran into the lady on the street corner those years ago. He was still sheltered, unaware of the real world, but he knew what she was insinuating. He could also recall the few kisses he had given out in exchange for a free pill or a bag of weed. It wasn’t often, but he knew it was an easy way to get what he had wanted. It wouldn’t be surprising to know other people are doing similar. It would keep his drug habit alive and well, although finding a place to sleep wouldn’t be as easy. Although, Klaus did wonder just how much further the others she was talking about was going, and he was honest enough with himself that he wondered what they got out of it. Money would be useful, more useful than drugs at times - granted, it wasn’t something he wanted to do himself, but he was being realistic. Reginald had given them a realistic mindset, they weren’t optimistic about the world, there were very few people that would act selflessly.

The two of them talked a little more, Ben watching over Klaus’ shoulder with a sense of unease, but the night ended with Klaus moving back to his room, locking the door, and trying to sleep, his stomach a little more satisfied.

“ _You talk in your sleep_ ,” Ben pointed out when Klaus woke up, a hand rubbing his face as he turned over in the bed.

“What did I say?” Klaus asked, his throat sore. No doubt he had been saying more than he’d like to admit.

“ _Lass mich allein,_ ” Ben repeated, the words stiff in his mouth but clear all the same. He had heard Klaus repeat the words with a few others in-between, but languages had never been his strong suit. That was always a _Klaus_ speciality. He had only learnt odd words or phrases from Klaus’ continuous use, but the direct languages were always muddled in his mind.

“Sounds about right,” Klaus’ voice rasped. He chanced a look over to Ben, only to find him watching him. “Leave me alone,” Klaus said with a nod of his head. Ben nodded, the translation understood, he had been asking someone to leave him alone. It wasn’t uncommon for Ben to hear Klaus beg to be alone in his sleep, to beg for the noise to stop, or the people to leave. Ben had stopped asking outright if he pointed out the moments that Klaus’ words would turn into something he didn’t recognise Klaus would often translate what he said if they were both alone.

“ _Which language it is?_ ”

“German,” Klaus cleared his throat. He pushed himself out of the bed to get a drink. German was the language he used the most, it was the one that he had been taught first, and the one he had heard more of. Reginald enjoyed ghosts that died in the war, and German was a common language to hear from those ghosts, even the American ghosts. Those that died in the war would speak a mixture of the two languages, stumbling between them. He didn’t remember what he dreamt of, but they probably featured in the dream.

“ _We should figure something out for today,_ ” Ben said.

Klaus knew he wanted to return home, it would be safer in a sense. Klaus refused though, and it wasn’t just because of the tremor in his hands. He’d rather find a bench to sleep on then return back home.

* * *

It drove Ben mad to watch his brother sit in the dark and cold alley. Cars passed by on the road, and Klaus shivered against the wall. Their money was nonexistent, and Klaus had refused to even talk about going back to the Umbrella Academy for a second. Ben wouldn’t have minded if they had snuck in to sell something they could take, anything to stop the shaking.

Klaus hadn’t said much in the past week, only muttering to plead for silence when the singular pills he took wore off. He didn’t take a lot of them, and Ben was thankful. He hadn’t voiced his worry, but he had seen how the ghosts around him would fade into the background, becoming nothing more than a fuzzy image. Would he do the same? Somehow he had managed to avoid it, but there were times that his voice was nonexistent. Ben would open his mouth to plead with Klaus to _go back home_ but the words wouldn’t come, so Ben would try to shout. Nothing. It terrified him how his voice was gone, and he wondered if Klaus still saw him in those moments, or if he was just another spirit that had lost its shape. Were the others aware of how they faded? Or did they, like Ben, think they were still whole whilst others faced that fate?

Klaus’ eyes were glazed. He hadn’t taken anything in a while, and his shivering was a mixture of shakes from withdrawal and the cold. Ben still couldn’t bring himself to test his voice, not yet.

Klaus had been sick a few times through the night. Each time, Ben had recoiled, despite the fact he couldn’t smell any of the offending stenches. It was worrying, Ben hadn’t seen Klaus this distant, not since they left the Academy. He just sat there, unseeing as the world continued. He didn’t react to the car horns or even the odd person that would dart down past his temporary residence. No one had noticed him, and he let himself blend into the trash around him.

“ _Klaus_?” Ben asked, thankful that his voice hadn’t disappeared again. Although now the fear was that Klaus wouldn’t respond. He hadn’t in the past, just continued to stare with those dead eyes. Moving to crouch in front of him, Ben searched for some sign that Klaus was present inside of his head. “ _Just look at me_?” his voice broke with the question, and Ben hoped that Klaus didn’t hear how scared he sounded. He didn’t want to be alone, but when Klaus was like this, it felt like he was alone.

A scream behind him made Ben flinch. He had gotten used to most of the noise, but the shrieks out of nothing would always catch him off guard.

Neither brother moved, Ben stayed crouched in front of Klaus until the sunset once again and Klaus’ eyes blinked life. They were unfocused but it was something that gave Ben hope. Someone had kicked a plastic bottle over to Klaus, it had flown through Ben’s leg and hit Klaus.

Ben’s coaxing helped Klaus off the floor, watching as Klaus stretched and cracked with the movement. They went straight to a club, seeking out the warmth of a room full of bodies. Ben hovered by Klaus’ shoulder as his brother danced and laughed. Even when his voice faded with the pills once again.

At least Klaus was warm. He also ate something, which was more than Ben had hoped. He realised very quickly that food wasn’t a priority on Klaus’ list. Drugs came first, a desire to dull the ghosts around him. A safe place to sleep came second, although they hadn’t paid for a hotel room since that first night. Klaus had spent the night with others, kissing and touching for a bed for the night. Ben had refused to leave, he kept his back turned, but he felt better knowing that he was there to watch over Klaus. It wasn’t much, but he felt like he was helping.

Food - Klaus wouldn’t buy food. His money was given to his first priority, but if he had been offered food, he would take it. Klaus hadn’t turned down food. At one point, Ben had _encouraged_ his brother to just take something from one of the shops they had stepped into to warm up. Klaus had been hugging his stomach, his hands shaking as he licked his lips. His eyes had strayed to the premade sandwiches and Ben had seen the desire in his face. Klaus hadn’t given into Ben’s suggestion, he had fled the shop, swallowing another pill in the hope it dulled the pain in his stomach.

Klaus was skinny, and Ben had found himself waiting for the day he fainted from the lack of food he’d eaten. He had lost weight, although not as much as he would have if he didn’t regularly drink alcohol he managed to convince others to buy him. Ben had been critically watching Klaus, seeing how his skin seemed to shrink to his bones, and how the joy in his face dulled to something _meaner_.

* * *

The first time Klaus had offered his body in exchange for drugs with Ben around had been interesting, to say the least. Although Ben didn’t recall the night as fondly as Klaus seemed to. They had run out of money quickly, and the bits and bobs that Klaus had managed to sneak and sell hadn’t been much. Ben had fluttered around him, concern showing as Klaus’ stomach grumbled. He wasn’t concerned about eating though, Klaus’ main concern was the migraine that was developing. He had been riding the edges of withdrawal more often than not, but the ghosts wouldn’t give him the reprieve of a day without them. He had dipped into withdrawal enough to know he didn’t want to stay there, a few hours of sickness and shaking had been enough.

He hadn’t meant to stumble across Jack. Jack was forgiving, the first person that had shown him how he could buy something for nothing. A kiss was nothing. He could spare them all night for a handful of pills to last.

A few kisses were evidently not enough anymore. Klaus hadn’t said anything about how that had never mattered before. How a younger Klaus had only had to smile to get that discount. It wasn’t worth the chance he would take the pills away.

Ben had hissed when they were lead to a motel. Klaus had been wary. He was half sober, and he hadn’t done more than kiss and touch when sharing someone else’s bed. Jack seemed to want more, and Ben begged him to leave. He couldn’t. Klaus knew he wouldn’t be able to run into another person that would offer him another way out of paying for drugs, and at least he knew Jack. Jack was... not overly caring, but he laughed with Klaus - even when Klaus didn’t laugh.

When Klaus was pushed back onto the bed, Ben had turned, his face furious. Klaus focused on how Ben’s hands were clenching and how his shoulders were tense. It was grounding in a way, how angry Ben was on Klaus’ behalf. If he was alive, no doubt Jack wouldn’t be. Klaus wouldn’t mind trading Jack’s life for Ben’s. Things would be different with Ben alive. Klaus would be alone without the anger radiating from the corner of the room. Being dead allowed Ben to touch his anger in a way he had never allowed himself to when alive.

The night hadn’t been painful, not really. Klaus had felt uncomfortable, but Jack was gentle. He spoke softly, and his hands soothed an itch under Klaus’ skin he hadn’t noticed was there. He had laughed with Klaus when he sobbed, cooing through his amusement and calling him names in the softest of voices. ‘ _You were ok baby_ ’, ‘ _you_ _’re lucky you’re still pretty like this_ ’. The words only made Klaus’ sobs harder, and he whined as Jack’s hand left his hair.

“You can stay here tonight,” Jack offered. He left the pills on the small table before he left, muttering something under his breath that made Ben hiss.

Klaus didn’t have the energy to ask what he said. He just scrambled until the dirty sheets and slept.

Ben kept watch through the night, still seething over what had happened, at how the man had left with a ‘ _fucking slut_ ,’ and another laugh. For the first time, Ben had missed the destruction he could bring forward. He wanted to hurt him, to make him bleed, to make him scream as he was torn apart.

Ben had managed to calm down enough by the morning, he had pleaded with Klaus not to do that again. Not to give himself away from a handful of pills. Klaus had agreed, and Ben felt better. He felt sure that it wouldn’t happen again. He ignored how Klaus had kept his arms wrapped around himself, almost lost in what he wanted. Even as he swallowed a dry pill.

It worked well, Klaus had given in and stolen something to eat. He kept to clubs through the night, dancing and drinking with others, managing to slip pills in the flashing lights. Klaus had laughed about his friends, dancing against them. His friends never lasted longer than a few hours.

Granted, it had worked well until Klaus wouldn’t stop shivering, but Ben supposed that was better than him not shivering. At least he was feeling the cold. The floor and the cars around them had turned white with the frost. There wasn’t any snow, which was good, at least Klaus was dry. He wasn’t wearing much though, tight trousers and a half see-through t-shirt. It wasn’t winter wear.

“ _You should see if you can find a place tonight_ ,” Ben urged. He was keeping track of the shivers, watching for them to decrease but it hadn’t happened yet. “ _I_ _’m sure there’s someone that would take you home_.” Ben hated the thought of it, but if Klaus had to sleep with someone for a warm place to stay tonight, it was worth it. The weather was only just starting to turn cold, it was possible that more nights like this one would come.

“I promised I wouldn’t,” Klaus reminded him because he had a habit of reminding Ben of the promises he made. That was something else Ben noticed, Klaus often stuck to his promises, especially the ones he made to Ben.

“ _It_ _’s better than you freezing_ ,” Ben snapped, trying to calm himself down as soon as the words left him. “ _I don_ _’t want you to end up like me_.”

“The cold’s never bothered me before,” Klaus offered, but the words didn’t seem as strong with his arms wrapped around his body and his hands pushed against his armpits just trying to maintain his body heat. His protests seemed to fade as Ben continued to push Klaus to look for someone. It could have been the faint blue in his lips, or how his body had seemed to stop offering heat to warm his hands, but Klaus did finally pull himself up. He had promised them both a quiet night away from the club, but he made his way back towards that area of town, knowing that it would bring him the best results for a night somewhere.

* * *

Klaus wasn’t new to hearing insults and curses thrown his way. Barely a month into staying out of the Academy, he had heard it all. Given a few months from Ben’s acceptance of sleeping around, he had heard it all shot his way during sex. The words rolled off his back, mixing into the wails of the dead. He had heard almost all the comments before, either from his family, from the criminals, or from the ghosts that haunt him.

Ben hadn’t had that as he grew up. He still got angry and hurt over the words hissed in their direction. He still told Klaus to leave when the words came up. He had asked how Klaus had been able to stomach the insults thrown against him. How he would be intimate with men that despised who he was. Or how he could smile as words purposely designed to hurt him were thrown in his face.

Klaus hadn’t answered, he never did when Ben brought it up. Mostly because it was during the moments that Ben would decide to ask and to complain. He’d ignore how unaware Klaus was, Ben just talking to the motel wall as he talked over the grunted words.

There was no _nice_ way to answer his question. Klaus hadn’t expected anything different. Especially not when he started to freely give himself out for a warm bed or a quiet night. Klaus didn’t care about the words he was labelled with, he knew they were true to an extent. He did sell himself sometimes, and he did like guys, and he was a freak. It was hard to think highly of yourself when you had been labelled a disappointment from childhood after all. The women that would find him weren’t as mean, but they were less likely to take him home. Klaus played to his strength, the men that wanted to hiss words in his ear would at least keep him warm for a few hours through it all and often, they paid well.

Slowly, Ben’s protests would fade, and he had even started waiting outside of the room when Klaus was _engaged_. Still close enough to hear if Klaus shouted, but not close enough to hear the words being spoken. It was a nice thought, even if it was pointless.

Klaus wouldn’t shout. He knew there was no need for it, and he had agreed to the night. Ben didn’t understand, how could he? He was dead after all, not cold or craving someone touching him. It wasn’t the same. Ben just watched the world, Klaus had to _live_ it. He had no room to judge Klaus for wanting someone to hold him, and it wasn’t Klaus’ fault that it only happened in the club or in a bed.

Klaus still hadn’t overindulged to his typical standards, still scared that he would blink and Ben would be nowhere to be found. Ben had threatened to leave a few times, typically when Klaus went for another pill after having already swallowed a few during the night. The words had always made Klaus pause, not just because of how selfishly he needed someone on his side, but also because he couldn’t damn Ben to being alone for the rest of eternity. Sure, they’d probably run into each other if Klaus stumbled by his siblings, but then _he_ _’d_ be alone. Klaus wasn’t sure he could handle that. He’d find comfort in the bodies of strangers, but he wouldn’t have someone to check the coast when Klaus sunk low enough to take a sandwich or a packet of chips from the shops. Klaus didn’t think he’d survive without Ben by his side.

Which is why Klaus lasted as long as he did. It was why he dealt with the shaking hands and the heat burning him from the inside out, clashing with the cold.

Klaus knew he was weak though, which was why he was apologising to Ben’s ghost. His hands were shaking, and there was blood from _somewhere_ , he couldn’t recall the reason or what had happened. Klaus just needed to forget whatever had happened. He had been with a man, someone who hadn’t been kind to him but had soothed the itch that begged for Klaus to reach out to anyone around him.

He had stumbled out of the hotel first, taking the money with him as soon as the deed had been done. Klaus still hated that part of his life, how _cheap_ he could feel with a handful of notes. He still had pills left, ones that he had promised not to take. Ones he hadn’t intended to take an hour before. Ones that were thrown into his mouth as soon as he left the hotel room.

He had felt great, the drugs had kicked in, and Klaus had forgotten the pain in his body and the state he had been in. He was _happy_ and talkative. Ben had noticed, as he always did. Klaus talked a lot when the high hit, he’d smile and laugh. There was no care taken to hide his brother from the world, he’d just ramble to space, alarming people around him.

His steps had slowed though, and he’d pause his steps to breathe a few times, almost falling from how he’d exaggerate his breathing. Ben had been worried, guiding him towards somewhere he could sit, leaning against the wall. It was grounding, the cold against his back as he inhaled.

“Just, just let me sleep it off,” Klaus mumbled, his words already begging to slur as he leant against the wall behind him. His hand was spread out on the ground, palm flat against the hard path.

“I don’t think this is something you can just sleep off,” Ben said, his voice high and scared. He was still talking though, his voice was his own and wasn’t locked away behind Klaus’ power. That had to mean something. Didn’t it? Klaus was fine, because Ben was still fine. Right? Even if Klaus was so clearly _not fine_.

“My head hurts,” Klaus’ words were barely audible, and Ben only just understood what he was saying through the jumbled way they were spoken.

Ben was terrified, watching his brother. He had been concerned as he had stumbled around, but he had handled that before. He knew how to get Klaus somewhere that he would sit and let the drugs wear off a little bit. He had underestimated just what had happened.

Klaus’ lips were turning slightly blue, and the hand not pressed against the ground was pressed against his chest. There was fear in Klaus’ eyes, overlooking the wide pupils and the confusion. Ben could see the muted panic, although he wondered if he was merely seeing his own panic in Klaus’ expression. It was possible.

Klaus had ignored Ben’s plea to find anyone nearby and ask them to call an ambulance, he hadn’t even reacted to Ben’s voice. Klaus’ eyes had fluttered closed, he had slumped, his head hanging forward.

Ben wanted to scream, to beg for someone to hear him and help, but he knew it was pointless. No one would see him. No one would hear him. His body was colder than normal, and Ben’s head felt weird. He was almost dizzy, and he found himself sitting across from Klaus, pressing a hand to his forehead. Something was very wrong.

Ben’s own vision had faded, and the last thing he saw had been Klaus’ body slumped. There had been foam at his mouth, but Ben hadn’t been able to pay attention clearly enough. It almost felt like he had floated, disappeared into the wind with just the memory of Klaus.


	5. Life With Ben.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in the hospital the first time to a whole different type of torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, so I started a new medication that pretty much wiped me out for the past few weeks, so this chapter was severely delayed. Luckily the next one is already finished, ready for editing and the last one is mostly done. I am so excited for the next one, I love it so much.  
> I'm not too sure how I feel about this one, but I'm hoping that it's partly my meds that are causing that. I managed to finish it though!  
> Edit; Had to change a few things that I missed last night, and corrected the HELLO hand.

Ben hadn’t been there when Klaus woke up. He woke up to a faint beeping and a room full of screams. Klaus had been frantic in trying to get away from the noise, he had fought the people that tried to keep him in bed, his breath quick and short as he struggled. There was a pinch before the world had turned dark once again.

Waking up a second time, Klaus had been more lucid, flinching from the noise around him. Ben was still nowhere to be found.

Klaus hadn’t fought with the workers when they came to check on him, lecturing him about his drug use and how he was lucky that he was found. They asked for his name. Klaus refused to give it but one of the workers had spied the tattoo on his arm and the glare had been enough of a reason for them to think he was apart of the Academy. There were records of them, and somehow they had narrowed down which one he was. After the reveal, and after a nurse told him they were contacting his father, he heard nothing. None of the workers had mentioned his family after that. A man had come round, talking to Klaus about his choices moving forward and what drove him to what had happened.

Klaus had smiled through the conversation, knowing that there was little he could say. It wasn’t something that he could be honest about. Even if these people knew who he was. He couldn’t tell them that the halls they worked in were so crowded and so loud that he was itching to find anything possible to drown the noises out. There were three ghosts in his room, all crowded around his bed, waiting for a moment that they could take Klaus’ attention. His smile hadn’t dipped when he shivered, the hands reaching out to grasp at him.

Ben appeared, seeming shaken as Klaus exited the hospital. Klaus had been shaking, it had been a few days of being completely cold turkey, and he was depressingly sober. The sight of Ben seemed to have kicked him in the stomach, making the ache even more noticeable.

“ _Are you ok_?” Ben asked, his voice rough and scratchy. Klaus just nodded. “ _How long has it been_?”

“A few days?” Klaus said, he wasn’t sure though, the days had been a blur between people visiting. He had almost gone crazy and he seemed to recall one of the nurses saying he had been asleep for a day. “They got a shrink and everything,” Klaus continued. He sounded almost as bad as Ben did. He had been holding back his screams though, eager to leave and not be admitted.

“ _That bad_?” Ben asked, seeming to settle the longer he stayed steady.

“They had to pump my stomach, but we’ve been through worse,” Klaus pointed out, getting a hesitant nod back.

Klaus hadn’t waited long before he gave in to the itch under his skin, and he sought out anyone that he knew who would part with anything to help the ghosts quieten. Anything to reduce the pain in his head where the screams from the hospital still echoed around him. Ben had protested, but they were weak, he was still too confused and worried to step in and talk Klaus out of swallowing the handful of pills. Klaus’ experience of bordering the line of sobriety faded. Ben would typically stay visible, even able to curse and berate Klaus. It seemed as though the overdose had been the key to keeping Ben around.

* * *

It was on their first birthday away from the Academy that Klaus asked the question Ben hadn’t known he had been dreading.

“How did it happen?”

“ _I don_ _’t want to talk about it_ ,” Ben said instantly, his voice harsh and firm. He expected Klaus to flinch back as he usually did with ghosts raising their voices, but he only nodded. He didn’t press or ask again, which may have been why Ben did answer his question a few years later. It had been an anniversary of his death, Klaus would often turn sombre on the days around it, allowing Ben to take the lead on their interactions.

Ben wasn’t sure how he got the words out. How he was able to detail the mission they had been on in such detail. He still remembered the assailants, he could see the terror in their eyes as he let his control slip to let the Horror out. It had been a routine mission, Ben was going through the motions. He didn’t know what had changed, or why it had changed. Only that there was so much more pain than normal. His voice had turned soft as he continued to talk, his arms wrapping around his stomach as he told Klaus about feeling his body tear itself apart and how he had been afraid and unprepared. Ben had even told Klaus what he had wanted to achieve, the places he had thought about going. The tentative plans he had for his future. Everything that didn’t matter any more. Ben wouldn’t have the chance to do anything.

Klaus had been silent as Ben spoke. Listening to the pain in his brother’s voice. He couldn’t do anything to ease it. He wondered how it felt to be dead, if Ben was _happy_ , or if he missed his life. There was something inviting to the nothingness Ben had described the feeling in the moments after his death before he had stopped talking. Things didn’t hurt, he didn’t feel the cold. Klaus had clenched his jaw to stop himself from asking more, asking if Ben had been given a chance to move on after his death. He didn’t want to consider that his brother had refused, that he had returned willingly. Ben shouldn’t have been turned away from anything else, he was a good kid, a little destructive with his stomach guests, but he was kind and caring. Not that Klaus believed in any afterlife other than the one he saw, he still envied those that did. The idea there was something more, something _great_ waiting. It was little more than a fantasy it seemed.

Klaus decided that night, once Ben had finished talking, that he would make their birthday something special for him. They’d spend the day in a library, reading whatever books Ben wanted to read, or they would go see a film Ben wanted to watch. Something that stopped the way Ben had sunk into himself and tried to hold himself together. Something that distracted them both from how young Ben had been when he died.

It had been going well until Klaus had been searched a week before their birthday and found himself sat in rehab.

“ _Maybe this is a good thing_ ,” Ben suggested for the hundredth time, and Klaus just wanted him to shut up. He knew his temper was shorter than normal, but Ben wouldn’t stop being so happy that Klaus was getting help. Even if he ignored the fact Klaus hadn’t volunteered to receive the help they were so nicely giving him. He had spent the week being sick and shaking before they would even allow him to join the _group_.

Klaus wanted to be anywhere else but the circle of chairs. Ben was stood behind him, listening as the other people talked about their hopes for things to get easier. It wasn’t how Klaus wanted to spend their birthday, he doubted it was Ben’s ideal place either.

“Klaus, is there anything you want to say?”

Klaus just stared at the lady. She refused to wilt under his stare. He wanted to say a lot, but Ben had whined the last time Klaus told one of the workers exactly what he had wanted.

“How many people have killed themselves here?” Klaus decided on instead, enjoying how half of the group flinched back into their chairs, eyes falling anywhere but him. He didn’t expect the answer, but he knew that death always made conversations end. He had counted five ghosts so far in the centre, four men, one woman. They hadn’t been quiet, but they did enjoy sneering at the people that wanted to get clean. There was only one in the room with them, throat purple and eyes blood-shoot. It didn’t take a genius to figure out how he died, perhaps before they had made the rule to take shoelaces and belts from all patients.

“ _Klaus_ ,” Ben sighed.

“I know this isn’t easy Klaus, and I know you’re still angry right now, but talking about what you’re feeling will help you right now, we’ve all been there,” the lady tried to continue. Smiling as though she had cracked the code, and as though Klaus would crumble before her, begging for forgiveness and willing to tell her how much he ached for fresh air and something strong enough to knock himself out.

Klaus just huffed, turning in his chair so he could face out the window rather than into the circle. He refused to play the game she was offering. He didn’t want to be sober, it had never brought him anything but ghosts. Ben sighed behind him again, but Klaus didn’t have the energy nor the patience to feel disappointed in himself.

The whole stint in rehab went the same way, they would try to coax Klaus into opening up and talking, but he would shut them down, sneering words that made others shy away. He had even brought up Jane’s, _the group leader_ _’s_ , past friend. She had followed her one day, standing by Jane’s chair. Once she had noticed Klaus watching her, she began to ask for help.

“ _Please, tell Jane that I_ _’m sorry, I didn’t want to hurt her, she shouldn’t have been the one to find me. Please, please tell her_.”

Ben had hissed his name. Klaus knew it was a warning against doing what he did, but at the time it felt like a dare, as though Ben was saying he wouldn’t do it. He almost didn’t, but then Jane had tried to drag him into the activity again.

“You know, I do have something to say,” Klaus had said, a smile in place. He caught the others shifting around the group, but it didn’t stop Klaus reaching down into the cold part of himself. “The girl you found, she’s next to you right now. She’s still bleeding - of course, she’s not really bleeding, being dead and all,” Klaus chuckled.

“ _Klaus, stop it_ ,” Ben hissed again.

“She said she didn’t want to hurt you, but she did, didn’t she? You found her, and I bet you even called for help, maybe even tried to save her. It’s a shame, isn’t it?” Klaus tutted, delighting in how pale Jane had turned. Almost as pale as the woman next to her, as though all her blood had left her body through her wrists just like her friend.

Jane hadn’t even ended the group, she just stood and fled the room. The others left quickly, shooting concerned looks back to Klaus.

“ _That was mean_ ,” Ben huffed, sitting in one of the empty chairs.

Klaus had just shrugged.

It had paid off, Jane had decided to just ignore him. Klaus hadn’t been asked to take part in the group, and everyone avoided him. Somehow, he thought of the whole activity as a success.

* * *

Ben had watched Klaus fall even further into himself after that journey into rehab. He hadn’t wasted any time after leaving, his thirty-day chip already thrown aside as he found someone to supply his habit. He hadn’t just taken pills. Ben watched as time passed and Klaus swallowed, snorted and even sunk low enough to inject substances into himself. There were more days that Klaus wasn’t fully there than there were that Klaus was able and clearheaded enough to handle a conversation.

The fade out’s that Ben had experienced in the past with Klaus’ drug use seemed to be happening less and less. Ben would still be wary of trying to talk to Klaus, but he grew more confident that his voice would still be heard. He had taken to guiding Klaus out of the run-down buildings he had found himself in. He had managed to direct Klaus away from the police that had arrived or looked towards him for longer than a few moments. It was a full-time job, and Ben was sure he’d be grey-haired and wrinkled already if he was still alive.

As high and unaware of the world as Klaus was, he was still himself. A more heighten himself, but he still slurred jokes to his brother and offered him food that he couldn’t eat. It was nice, for Klaus to still include Ben. Even though he had to watch his brother do the stupidest things.

The first time someone had truly taken advantage of the state Klaus was in, Ben hadn’t been able to stop shaking. He had been livid, and Klaus hadn’t left like Ben had asked him to. He had stayed, muttering how it wasn’t anything different than normal. The man - if Ben was kind enough to call him that - hadn’t been gentle. Compared to the regular activities Klaus found himself in, this man had even gone beyond those, making the others Klaus had spent nights with look like saints.

Ben hadn’t been able to turn away, he hadn’t wanted to leave Klaus. Granted, Klaus didn’t seem aware of what was really happening.

“Ben?” Klaus had mumbled, the words clumsy in his mouth. “Hey, no need to be so angry,” he had continued. He still looked a million miles away, but he was focused on Ben. Ben, who had been shaking and seething, hoping that his stare was enough to make whoever decided to hurt his brother pay dearly. “Stop it,” Klaus continued, ignoring the hiss from the man. “Angry ghosts are bad. So stop.”

Ben almost didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything other than making sure Klaus was ok. As soon as the man decided to hit his brother again, Ben screamed.

Klaus’ flinch wasn’t because of the impact. His eyes were wide, and he seemed to have sobered up for a moment, staring at Ben as though he was an alien. The fear in Klaus’ paler than normal face was enough to make Ben flinch back, curling in on himself. There was a faint rustle in his stomach, an ache from years ago. _The eldritch_. He hadn’t felt them since he had died. Perhaps it was that rumble inside of him that dried his anger up more than Klaus’ horror. As his anger left, so did the shifting in his torso. He felt alone again.

Pressing a shaky hand to his stomach, Ben _hoped_ Klaus wouldn’t remember this. That he wouldn’t remember the man that had found him, or that Ben had gotten as angry as he had, but especially how Ben couldn’t pull his hand away from his stomach, almost waiting for one of them to make themselves known again. They had gone when he died, the portal or whatever it was had closed, Ben was no longer the host.

Apologising to Klaus, Ben left the room. He hated himself, leaving Klaus to that monster, but Ben didn’t trust himself to be there. Klaus had told him before, in one drunken night, how he had been more open to the ghosts around him. He had befriended one before he had been as scared. They had followed him, but one day, one night that Klaus spent in the mausoleum had tainted the ghost. They had been angry, trying to keep the other ghosts away and their anger had twisted what humanity they had left. Klaus had watched his friend forget him and join the others in screaming and reaching out in anger. It only added to Klaus’ hatred of the mausoleum.

Ben had spent his whole life controlling his anger out of necessity. He had let himself feel it more since dying, but thinking back to the scream and how much he had wanted to hurt the _jackass_ , he was a little regretful. He still wanted to man dead, but he accepted that he probably shouldn’t try and get so worked up that he feels the eldritch again - perhaps that was the sign of too much.

* * *

Klaus’ second trip to rehab went much the same way as the first. So did Klaus’ trip to prison. He had been picked up before Ben had realised that the person who had come over was an officer.

Klaus had resisted, which didn’t work in his favour. Any possession or solicitation charges that might have been overlooked had been given to him with prejudice. Klaus had been quiet and unresponsive for a while, ignoring the ghosts and the people around him. It didn’t last. The ghosts in prison had jeered and mocked him. It had worried Ben to hear what they said, and how they acted, but Klaus hadn’t encountered half of what they had threatened. He hadn’t made any friends in jail, he was often keeping the people around him up with his nightmares, and talking to Ben had created more enemies than friends.

Ben had been worried about Klaus being in jail, but his worries were unneeded. Sure, Klaus still found drugs and he wasn’t shy in using his body to get what he wanted, but he was more likely to smirk as he blackmailed the people around him. The victims still lingering enough to watch between their screams and pleas for help. He had made himself known as someone who wouldn’t back down after a threat was made, and he would stare unflinchingly as someone tried to intimidate him. Klaus had also shown how he wouldn’t rise to the bait that the others would give, he wouldn’t fight, but he would defend himself. He had joked about finding a prison daddy to keep him safe, but soon enough, the men around would avoid him.

Klaus hadn’t done so well when placed in solitary. He had retreated into that blank version of himself than Ben had seen. His eyes would be unfocused as the ghosts around them would scream and try to grasp him. The withdrawal was always the worse, even if Klaus was _less_ reliant on drugs in jail.

“Next time make sure I run,” Klaus had hissed when they walked out into their freedom. Neither wanted to repeat the experience. Being around so many people had put Klaus on high alert, and even Ben had been unable to relax. It was freeing to be back on the streets, and Klaus even stayed away from the clubs for a while afterwards. Although Ben continued to hear Klaus talk about how jail hadn’t been so bad if they overlooked the ghosts around them. The horror stories weren’t entirely accurate about what happened in jail, sure, some of the men there were unsavoury, but not as dangerous as they had been made out to be.

* * *

“ _Truth or dare_.”

Klaus shot his brother a glare, his head hurt too much to consider playing along. He had been prompted to drink and take a lot the previous day, and he was facing the consequences of it. Klaus wasn’t sure what he had put into his body, or what he had done with his body by the end of the night, but Ben’s solemn look didn’t make him think positive things.

“ _Come on Klaus, truth or dare_ ,” Ben prompted. He had resorted to using that as a way of getting Klaus to listen to him. It was often when Klaus had hit the more _frustrating_ parts of the day, where the drugs didn’t fill him with joy. Klaus would rarely turn down a dare.

“Just let me find somewhere to sleep,” Klaus hissed. He had wandered out of the house, the sun, thankfully, hidden behind the clouds.

“ _Klaus, come on_ ,” Ben urged, but Klaus didn’t listen. He continued to stumble away from the doughnut shop. Ben had been sure he had seen Diego sat by the window, and even if he had been wrong, Klaus could have sat inside for a while. The owner wasn’t the type of person that would kick him out, they had sat inside before for a few hours at a time. Ben did miss his siblings, they hadn’t seen them often.

They had run into Diego a few months ago, he had left the Academy and joined the police. Or he was trying to join the police at least. Allison had moved out, from what Klaus had heard. She had started to make herself known outside of an Umbrella kid. They didn’t know much about Vanya and Luther, they could still be at home, or they could have left as well. It had been years, so Ben hoped they had both left. It was Diego that they would often run into, and those meetings were unusual.

“ _We could just sit inside, maybe get something to eat? You_ _’ve not eaten for a while, it’s not good for you_ ,” Ben tried as he continued to glance back at the shrinking shop. He missed his siblings, but he didn’t trust Klaus to be alone, not as uncoordinated as he was.

“Just shut up Ben,” Klaus muttered.

Ben knew it was the hangover, he hadn’t had the chance to take anything the night before, but he had certainly drunk more than his body weight. How he hadn’t been sick, Ben wasn’t sure.

They came to a stop, Klaus leaning against a wall as he closed his eyes. He looked sick, although that might be the hangover. It wasn’t often Klaus showed the aftereffects of indulging, he was rarely sober enough to come down from his highs. He medicated the downs with drugs that lifted his mood. He had forgotten that aspect of his routine last night, too caught up in the moment, dancing with so many different people. He had been in his element, laughing and joking with a bachelorette party, joining them as they moved from club to club.

He really didn’t look good now though. Klaus was paler than normal and slightly green as he took breaths that shook his chest.

“ _Come on Klaus, just sit here, you need to stop_ ,” Ben pleaded. He didn’t want to watch Klaus fall to the floor _again_. It happened too often for comfort. He would sometimes shake, a seizure taking over from whatever he had mixed into his body. Sometimes Klaus’ mouth would foam and sometimes he would just go still and unmoving. It was never easy to watch. At least Klaus was on a street, rather than hidden away in the city. Someone might notice him, and they might call for help. It happened a few times, although Klaus would always refuse care when he was conscious again.

He couldn’t refuse their help when he was unconscious though, and Ben had stopped fading when Klaus went like this. He’d be left watching helplessly, fear gripping him as he wondered if _this time_ Klaus would join him. As lonely as Ben felt, he wanted Klaus alive.

“Klaus?”

Ben turned before Klaus had opened his eyes. There was a chance that Diego had been in the doughnut shop, but there was no mistaking him as he stood in front of Klaus. There was a worried pinch to his eyebrows as he leant closer to Klaus.

“Leave me alone,” Klaus sighed. Ben knew it was directed towards him, Klaus didn’t have the spacial awareness to notice Diego, not yet.

“No can do bro,” Diego sighed. He finally placed a hand on Klaus’ shoulder, despite how he had flinched and tried to shake the hand off. “Let’s get you something to eat, you look dead.”

“Flatterer,” Klaus mumbled, but he let Diego manipulate him.

Ben _wasn_ _’t_ jealous. He wasn’t. He was happy someone had come along willing to help. He trusted Diego with Klaus, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt him or make him feel bad. So why did Ben feel left out? More so than normal. He had spent so many days hovering around Klaus, wanting to reach out and guide him with more than just words. He hadn’t been able to put a hand on Klaus’ shoulder or nudge him in the right direction. Yet Diego was there, with one of Klaus’ arms over his shoulders as they walked.

When Ben pushed more than normal, Klaus would lash out and he was almost pliant in Diego’s hands. Ben had tried so much time and time again to get Klaus to move, or to get him to accept someone’s help, and Diego just manages it with a simple _bro_.

He wasn’t hurt.

He was happy someone was helping him.

Diego continued to talk quietly as he helped Klaus through the streets. Ben lingered behind, never letting them get out of sight, but feeling like an intruder if he walks any closer.

The few times they had run into Diego, he would make an attempt to feed Klaus. Typically the food came with a lecture to take better care of himself, and a half-hearted attempt to coax Klaus into giving up drugs. It never worked, and Diego would often wake up after offering Klaus a place to sleep to an empty room, or they would part after a quick meal. It was awkward, each time they ran into a family member, but that was to be expected.

As the years passed, Klaus would only run into Diego and Vanya. Both had left the Academy. Luther had stayed home, they had learnt. Allison had continued to follow her dreams of being a star. She was in a serious relationship from what they had overheard.

Vanya would often shy away from Klaus, and Ben had followed her a few times, checking to make sure she was alright as he fought to keep hold of Klaus. It was difficult to stray too far, he would feel weaker and hazy, but he missed his siblings. Vanya still played the violin, and Ben would watch her for as long as possible before he had to return to Klaus. They didn’t talk much about how Ben’s disappearances often coincided with Klaus’ health deteriorating. Ben had returned to Klaus in the back of an ambulance a few times, and even passed out on the street. He didn’t question what had happened, and Klaus never offered an explanation. Perhaps both were afraid of voicing their thoughts or facing the truth.

* * *

Klaus didn’t make a noise as he read through the chapter on himself, Ben was looking over his shoulder, offering a few comments here and there. Vanya hadn’t hesitated with her writing. She wrote about her own jaded view of the past, some memories were different from Ben’s own memory, but most had similar points.

 **_Klaus was a strange child. My memories of him are scattered, there is no true substance that I remember of his character. He enjoyed laughing and joking, but he was the only one of us that made an effort to keep the feel of the house lighter. There were times that Klaus_ ** **_’ personality felt false and empty. It had been a joke among the others that Klaus’ abilities to connect with the dead had ruined his ability to live and feel like normal people. Ironic in a way that he showed more care in a few moments in his life than they tended to._ **

It made Ben want to apologise, recalling how they had chuckled at the thought of Klaus being unable to live normally, they were young and unaware of how true they were. Or at least, Ben had come to the conclusion that his power had limited his ability to live normally, he doubted Klaus would be on this path if things were different, if their powers weren’t hidden away within them.

Klaus showed no outward reaction to the book, nor the words he was reading, and Ben wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. Vanya had been brutal with their siblings, laying out their flaws and faults in childhood for all to see. He wondered how Allison had taken the news, how she was handling her fame around the mess of this publicity.

 **_There was one moment in my memories of Klaus at the Academy that really sticks out, and it was a fight between Klaus and our father. That fight had been legendary, it had woken us all up in the early hours of the morning. Klaus was ruthless as he yelled at our father, calling him an abuser and heartless - among other things. A lot of the things I wrote about here on the other siblings were revealed that night, Klaus had thrown every bit of pain in our father_ ** **_’s face, how he had hurt his children and how they had often spent time unable to move or talk after their training. No one had told anyone else about their training, I remember the morning after where everyone had tried to ask Klaus how he knew. We had decided we didn’t want to know after talking together, there had been fear in their faces as they asked each other if it was true. Perhaps Klaus had developed a new power._ **

Ben remembered that night clearly, and how unsettled everyone had been that morning. Ben had barely slept, the unease still keeping the monsters inside of him active. Ben had listened in muted horror as the other’s confirmed Klaus’ words.

“I didn’t know that you all heard that,” Klaus hummed. Ben didn’t reply, he didn’t need to. There was nothing he could say.

**_The morning after that night, Klaus was at breakfast, he acted no different. He avoided the rest of us, offering that same empty smile of his before humming as he left. I think that is what stood out the most, how he acted so normal after everything - but that is the story of Klaus really, nothing seems to phase him._ **

It had been true, but the years that had passed made Ben realise just how little they had truly seen Klaus.

 **_I remember asking Klaus why he snuck out one day, it wasn_ ** **_’t long after a huge fight that he had with our father. Klaus had hardly reacted, only smirked as he asked me what I would give to be extraordinary like the rest of them, and then I would have the answer. At the time, I would have given anything, everything really. I was so sick of being left out and hurt. I have no doubt that he knew that, and threw it back in my face. How he wished to be normal while I wanted to be extraordinary._ **

Klaus seemed amused by the words on the page, and Ben wondered how he could view it so simply. Ben had thought similar thoughts. He would have given anything to be normal, to be like Vanya. It would make him uncomfortable sometimes to know how much she pined after their abilities, but he understood it. Klaus did too. Being left out and being alone was horrible.

The chapter continued on to talk about how Klaus’ spiral into drugs had effected the family, how Klaus’ missions went unfocused and how Reginald had taken his frustration out on everybody else.

 **_Whilst technically being the third to leave, it felt like he was the first sibling to find some sense of freedom from our father. Five ran and we still don_ ** **_’t know what happened, and Ben died. At least Klaus had fun. That had to count for something._ **

Klaus let out an amused huff, and Ben wanted to mirror that amusement because as much as she viewed Klaus’ life as _fun_ , it was anything but. Ben had seen how Klaus would turn against himself so quickly when things got rough, and he knew that Klaus only opened up to him because Ben couldn’t leave him and he couldn’t tell anyone else.

Vanya’s view on Klaus’ life since leaving the Academy was almost as painfully honest as the other chapters had been.

 **_I_ ** **_’ve run into Klaus a few times since I left the Academy, it is always a bizarre feeling to see him again. He has no hesitation in crossing over to catch up, looking even more sickly each time I see him. I have only invited him back to my place a handful of times, and I dislike admitting it, but it is not something I will do again. There was once that Klaus had left without taking anything, he had looked lost, almost like the broken child that I hadn’t expected. Klaus wouldn’t typically show his sadness so readily. He didn’t say goodbye. The other times, I would find odd things missing, nothing important to me - which I suppose was good of him. The last time I offered my place as a resting point for him, I found several of my pills missing, and that had been the final point for me. I know the others had stopped helping him, and I didn’t want to be like them. That had been an unforgivable offence for me though, Klaus was never invited back to my apartment when we met._ **

Ben had known that something had changed since that night, he had warned Klaus from taking the pills. He had also watched in fear as Klaus’ reaction to the pills seemed almost deadly. Seeing it so clearly laid out was different, to see how Vanya had made a point to help Klaus and they had thrown it back in her face.

 **_The few times since then, he would always look at me sadly, and I want to believe he understands why I act different than I did a year ago. Maybe he is just sad that he doesn_ ** **_’t have a new place to get a bit of money for his drugs. I wish my brother gets the help he needs, but it feels unlikely, he had given up on himself a long time ago, perhaps back when Ben had died, so I think it’s fitting that Chapter Six - Ben’s original number, is dedicated to Klaus. I hope he has a warm place to sleep, and I do catch myself thinking of him during the colder nights. Sometimes I hope he shows up at my apartment, especially when we go a while without contact. He never has, and he probably never will. Klaus rarely entered another person’s space without repeated explicit permission, so that probably won’t change._ **

Klaus let out a long sigh, marking his place in the book and setting it aside. Ben was a little worried for his own chapter, but Vanya didn’t know as much about his training, Klaus hadn’t revealed that to them all. Ben considered telling Klaus to catch up with Vanya, to go visit her when they got out of rehab, but he knew it wouldn’t happen.

Klaus was silent the whole day, and Ben tried to bring him out of the funk he was in, but it was a fruitless effort.

“Hey Vanya,” Klaus has spoken into one of the few phone booths on the wall. “I saw the book, I’m only partially through it, just finished chapter six,” Klaus said quietly. His voice was void of any anger or upset.

Ben noticed how Klaus had called it _Chapter Six_ rather than the chapter on himself, _Klaus Hargreeves/Number Four_. It was a way of distancing himself, to pull his own feelings away from what he wanted to say.

“I don’t know if you’ll hear this, but - but I’m proud of you sis,” Ben could hear the false cheer in his tone. “Way to stick it to the old man, us rebels are making a difference and breaking him down.”

The call ended almost as quickly as Klaus had been sent to voice-mail. It wasn’t much, but Ben knew Klaus wanted to show his support. Even if the words that were written had been harsh and unfair.

When Klaus went back to the book, Ben was more than thankful that his own chapter had been much less horrific. Vanya had mused about his training and how the monsters within him had made his life difficult, but she mainly focused on the childhood tales with him. She had remembered a moment where the two of them had spent time together, Ben had worked alongside Vanya on a history report and they had spent a few nights laughing and feeling close than they had. Ben was happy that Vanya kept that memory close, it made him feel less bad about ignoring her like the others did. Her book had been honest with her isolation and how alone she had felt during the years.

Ben was annoyed on Klaus’ behalf that the positive moments she wrote about him were sidelined with negativity. _‘I remember Klaus coming into my room as I played music, we had been young and Klaus was more than likely high.’,_ and _,_ _‘It was never when he was sober._ ’ being the main examples of this negativity. It made Klaus seem heartless, as though he was selfish, when Ben had learnt just how wrong that was.

* * *

Leaving rehab was the same routine as normal, Klaus would bid goodbye to the usuals that he’d see. Wishing a few of them luck - the ones that showed promise and the desire to get better. He would always bid goodbye to the worker, who wouldn’t admit they had given up on him. It was clear though. The _‘Take care_ ’ had turned into _‘See you soon_ ’ with a stern word to stay sober, and Klaus appreciated the honesty and the false hope they projected. He would be back, they all knew it.

Just like normal, Klaus wasted no time, ignoring Ben’s sighs as he made his way to the alley closest that held the treasures he sought. His tolerance would always suffer from his stints in rehab - especially when he allowed them the chance to pick his brain. Some rehabs were more stingy than others, making the search for drugs truly different and sometimes virtually impossible.

Klaus had woken in the back of an ambulance, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, he had the routine down. He’d breathe, his heart racing as he pulled the oxygen mask from his face, holding his right hand up to the paramedic, _HELLO_ , that would often be hovering over him or falling back in their seat. Klaus had gotten to the point where he’d recognise some of them, and he could always tell the newer recruits from the typical ones. This one seemed to know what would happen, the smallest grin on his face, he had saved a life after all. He was allowed to be happy and proud about that.

Ben was stood to the side, looking cramped in the space he took up. He always looked uncomfortable when Klaus had been saved. Klaus knew Ben didn’t want him dead, but he did often wonder if he would feel less alone with Klaus truly by his side. Surely, that would stop the need for him to watch over Klaus and doubt his life choices.

The news had caught the attention of both of them in the back of the ambulance - stopping the paramedic asking questions that Klaus wouldn’t answer.

He was dead.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Ben muttered, his expression darkening as he looked around. Klaus was waiting with him, their father had not been a quiet person and it was unlikely his ghost would be too different. It wouldn’t surprise Klaus if their father had returned just to yell at Klaus for being even more of a failure. Maybe the paramedic hadn’t had time to look for Klaus’ drugs, he should still have a bit left to get him through seeing his dad again. One could hope.

Reginald’s ghost didn’t come. Not as Klaus refused to answer the paramedic’s question, or even as he stumbled away from the frowns when they got to the hospital. He wouldn’t be sent back to rehab this quickly, and he certainly didn’t have a father to send the bills to anymore. Maybe Allison would cover him? It was unlikely.

It had been Ben’s idea to go back to the Academy. He had been just as unnerved that Reginald hadn’t made himself known, and it had been Ben who voiced the dark voice in Klaus’ mind that suggested it was all a hoax to get them back home. Was it still home? Klaus wasn’t sure.

It hadn’t been difficult to get back into the Academy, not even Pogo was keeping watch when Klaus had snuck in. As much as Klaus wanted to see his siblings, it would likely be better for them not to realise he was around, so he had ordered Ben to act as a lookout as he scouted around Reginald’s office. Surely there was something there that he could take and use as a cash cow for a while. The lookout seemed to have taken his orders a little too lightly since Allison’s appearance made Klaus realise that Ben was nowhere to be seen.

It was unbelievably awkward. Klaus had distanced himself, pouring another drink as he others just sat and stared at each other. There was only so much that one person could do in silence, and Klaus was much too sober for it. Luther had started talking, as he normally did. Number One, first to take action, and first to plan. Klaus had missed him, but not enough to fall back in line.

“ _He_ _’s going to ask you to get dad_ ,” Ben said blandly, almost showing how little he thought of the idea, as Luther and Diego started to discuss the possibilities of a murder. If someone had killed him, would that be such a bad thing?

Klaus didn’t appreciate Allison’s scoff at the question, but he supposed it wasn’t undeserved. Klaus had made a point to be vocal about how his powers wouldn’t work when he was high.

“I can’t just call dad in the afterlife and be like, ‘dad, could you just stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?’”

Ben’s chuckle was worth it, even if his siblings had rolled their eyes. Diego seemed to be fighting a smile though, which Klaus viewed as a win.

“Since when? That’s your thing?” _His thing_ , of course, it was Klaus’ thing, he couldn’t escape it. Even as blissed as he could get with the drugs, Ben was still there and sometimes there were others that managed to break through the barrier that the drugs offered. Reginald might have been onto something with the tattoos because the ghosts only seemed to get more difficult to push away as time passed. Sometimes it was as though Klaus was an open wire, just waiting for the right moment to spark and come to life.

“I’m not in the right… frame of mind,” he offered.

“You’re high?” Allison asked, that mightier than thou attitude, and Klaus wanted to seethe at it. She had no place to judge, not when she used her powers for everything.

“Yes!” Klaus admitted, falling back into that same mock-amused tone he had used for the last few years of his adolescence. “How can you not be?”

* * *

Klaus had tried his best to take in every second of Five’s appearance. Of his whole presence, so life-like and _real_. Everyone else had reacted to him, but Five hadn’t changed, at all. He was older, but he looked the same. Klaus had flashbacks to how he had hoped to connect with his brother, how he would stay up late into the night searching for his ghost, calling him forward and how he had found nothing.

The whole group of siblings seemed to be drinking the sight of Five in whenever they were around him, almost as though they were all collectively scared he would be gone with a blink once more, and that all they were left with was a memory. Perhaps they had all been hallucinating together, Ben had assured him that it was real - that _Five_ was real, but Klaus has had vivid hallucinations previously. It had been cruel of Ben to play along, but Klaus began to admit that it may not be a hallucination when he smashed a snow-globe against his forehead and felt the liquid wash over his face.

He admitted the reality of the whole situation when he was looking into the eyes of the people that had tortured him. Allowing the ghosts forward hadn’t been easy. He wanted to push them away, to plead for them to leave him alone.

Ben thought they could help though.

Ben was right more times than he was wrong.

Perhaps next time Ben suggested not opening a strange suitcase that two assassins carried and stored in their room, Klaus might listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've considered doing a one-shot like Christmas at Rehab about his time in prison, but I'm not sure if I will just yet. It depends I suppose. This one was the most difficult, and I feel like it moved very quick, but to be fair, the years probably blended a lot for Klaus, and he probably doesn't have the best memories from this time in his life either.


	6. I'd Marry You With Paper Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vietnam and David.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent so long researching Vietnam I hope you know. I knew nothing about that war (ignorant British person who had never been taught). There were just drugs everywhere apparently, so much that they were sending people home for smoking weed when the public found out. Also, my googling of Hebrew because I know no languages.  
> Also, did I get the idea of this after listening to Paper Rings by Taylor Swift? Maybe, and I am not ashamed at all because it is adorable.
> 
> I JUST LEARNT ABOUT THE TATTOO MEANING AND I AM WEAK AND MAYBE THIS CLOSE TO CRYING - I am writing this up in the middle of the night and I am so weak with this stupid relationship. If we don't see more/get Dave back I will riot.
> 
> Quick note, if this one goes unnoticed I will probably be upset because of how much I love it, but hopefully, other people enjoy it too, it's one of my favourite things I've written I think right now.
> 
> This is the longest chapter for this story, and it's early because I just cannot wait to post it for you all.

The end of Klaus’ first day, when they had been able to settle back into the safer areas, where the gunfire had died down and finally, Klaus had the chance to pause. They hadn’t much time, already being told to grab their things and get ready to move onwards. The bus was warm, the thick air clinging to Klaus as he sat, unsure of what to do. The briefcase that brought him here was tucked between his ankles.

“You just get in-country?” the touch on his shoulder startled Klaus enough that he turned. Nodding to what the man said, it at least offered him an excuse of seeming so out of place.

“Yeah, shit’s crazy. I know. You’ll adjust,” he added, making Klaus smile. “I’m Dave.”

“Klaus,” he introduced himself, taking the warm hand. He wanted to the flinch away from the chill of Klaus' skin against another human's temperate body but it didn’t come. Dave didn’t instantly let go of his hand, instead, he lingered for a second, giving Klaus another smile. It felt good, something special that didn't often happen.

Klaus hadn’t let himself relax, not even when Dave pointed him towards a cot and told him to get some sleep. He hadn’t had time to process what was happening, they were at war. _War_ _’s not going to wait for you to get pretty_. Klaus shivered at the memory of the words, and how they had turned into gunshots and screams. Klaus’ skin had begun to burn halfway through the battle, and he was still sweating more than normal - but was that withdrawal or was it the heat of wherever they were?

“ _You look shaken boot_.”

Klaus flinched, looking around until he caught sight of a wounded soldier. He didn’t look any different from the others around him, just that blue hint shimmering against his skin in the dull light.

“ _Won_ _’t be long ‘til you’re on this side too. Fucking dicks couldn’t get a decent replacement_.”

Shaking his head, Klaus stood, stumbling around the cots until he could step outside. He took a breath, trying to calm his heart. There were more ghosts outside. Some were shot through the chest like the one in the tent, but others had arms missing, or legs half decapitated.

“You look like you just watched Bambi get shot,” another man chuckled, and Klaus only stayed due to that familiar smell. If Ben was there, he’d tell him to leave, to turn and try and sleep off this nightmare he was having.

“Want some dew to calm your nerves?” the man held out the joint in his hand and Klaus was too weak to resist the temptation. He couldn’t get high in a nightmare, so it was probably fine. Even if it was real, Klaus didn’t care. After what hell he had been through, he would do anything for some relief.

“Keep it quiet, the world is cracking down on dew here. The boys have some other stuff, but I think this works best,” the man said, and Klaus nodded, not caring what was being said. The faint pull from his body was all he needed to relax a little. The murmurs faded just a little, blending into whispers as the man in front of him continued to talk about how the commander would skin them for this, but he needed something to help relax him.

God, he missed Ben.

* * *

_“There’s a mine, three steps,”_ the ghost said, and Klaus _listened_. A jungle was no place to ignore warnings, even if the ghosts weren’t being honest. Klaus had been around for barely a week, but he had seen people walk off and not return. He had been given another ‘reminder’ of what to expect, apparently, the people that dropped him off didn’t always give the best information. Dave had told him about the tigers that roamed, and how they wouldn’t often attack, but to steer clear of any bodies that were freshly deceased - they liked to clean up for them, it wasn’t worth fighting a tiger just for a body to be sent home.

It was a scary thought. Klaus knew he would die, it happened to everyone, and he didn’t mind the reality of it. Being left as a tiger’s meal? That felt more permanent. There was no glory in that death - although Klaus didn’t mind that fact. He had accepted that he was a sad story to tell. Someone who wouldn't be honoured beyond a warning to others.

“ _Mine_ ,” the ghost repeated.

Klaus’ arm went to stop Dave from walking forward.

“Mine,” Klaus said as a way to explain. Dave didn’t question him, thankfully. They continued on their way, avoiding the area the ghost had pointed out, and Klaus didn’t want to think about where the body of this ghost was. If he had died in this spot and had been eaten rather than sent home to his family. It was possible, apparently, it happened a few times. Sometimes they had found parts of a person but had left them out in the open. It was kinder to say MIA than to send pieces home, Dave had whispered to him.

“Why’d you stop me?” Dave asked, and Klaus knew they were at that bored stage in the conversation. That this idiot was asking said it all.

“If you went and blew yourself up, I’d be kicked out of the camp in no time,” Klaus joked. He hadn’t gotten along with many of the soldiers, but Dave had been the constant around him. If only to survive, he’d make sure Dave survived. It might be his only ticket to sleeping _inside_ of the tent rather than outside of it. Somehow Dave had even managed to smooth over the nightmares that happened, pointing out past nightmares the others had.

It was nice to have someone sticking up for him.

So Klaus had a reason to make sure Dave was alive. If he didn’t have Ben watching out for him and being someone to talk to, he’d settle for Dave Katz.

* * *

“What’s happening?” Klaus asked, leaning over to Dave so that his voice didn’t travel to the escalating conversation happening across the tent.

“They’re bench racing,” Dave explained, but it didn’t really give Klaus an answer. “They do it all the time,” Dave seemed to have caught sight of Klaus’ confusion before he continued to explain, “talking about how fast their cars go. Frankie used to be a big racer, or so he says. He’ll find a way to bring up bookin’ in every conversation if you let him.”

Klaus hummed, still confused with the conversation. He had figured out they were in Vietnam, but he was still unsure _when_ he was. He couldn’t remember when the Vietnam War had been, only that it was a big deal at the time, something that Reginald had insisted they learn about, but Klaus had never paid too much attention to their history lessons.

“Katz, leave the panty waist alone,” another soldier snapped from across the tent. Klaus wasn’t sure what it meant, but he knew it wasn’t a _positive_ way to talk about him. Klaus was aware of how he came across, he had been _twink-ish_ for a large part of his life, and Ben would often make sure his back was covered. Ben still hadn’t appeared. Klaus guessed it was the time difference, it was the only thing he could consider - although the drugs probably didn’t help.

It was almost heaven how easy it was to get a hit. Weed was rare compared to the rest, and Klaus was happy to fall back on cocaine and heroin to tide him over. He wasn’t the only one partaking. There were only a few in the unit that hadn’t touched the harder stuff, but almost everyone had taken the _dew_ as they called it. He hadn’t heard that term in a long while on the streets.

“Leave it, Jefferson,” Dave sighed, and Klaus got the impression that this wasn’t the first time he had said the same thing.

Tilting his head slightly, Klaus regarded the other man. Jefferson had been loud about what he thought, and he wouldn’t hesitate to call Klaus names. Klaus hadn’t heard him be truly degrading though, and the ghosts around hadn’t hidden their distaste that an _obvious queer_ had been the replacement.

“He got beef with me or something?” Klaus asked Dave, as soon as the words left his mouth, he winced. That wasn’t something he should have said, and now he’d have to explain what he meant and look even weirder to everyone. The language was different but still somewhat similar. Just enough that it tripped Klaus up, certain phrases sounding alien to him and bring out some of the weirder terms he had grown to know.

“Something like that,” Saunders said, leaning in to nudge Klaus, he had interrupted Dave’s soft, ‘maybe a little’. Huh, that was unexpected, but Klaus didn’t want to look a gifted horse in the mouth.

“Why?” Klaus didn’t need to ask to know the answer, but he wanted to prove himself right.

“You look queer,” Saunders said, once again cutting Dave’s response off. It was a little frustrating, but Klaus appreciated the honesty all the same. “Plus boots tend to be a little flaky out there.”

“Boots?” Klaus asked, pushing for an answer. He hadn’t figured that one out, normally the slang could be figured out with context but he hadn’t managed it.

“Troops fresh outta boot-camp,” Dave explained. “Surely you heard ‘em say it back there?”

Klaus hummed, deciding to push his luck; “What is a panty waist then? Just queer?”

“Not exactly,” Dave had stammered, but Saunders had chuckled lowly.

“Jefferson’s fab insult, a man more woman than man,” Saunders cut in, and Klaus got the idea. A feminine man, a stereotypically gay man. Klaus was a little insulted, he hadn’t even had the chance to grab anything other than the fatigues he had been handed. Ben would have been annoyed, taking the insult more personally than Klaus had, most likely cursing the soldier. God, he missed his brother.

* * *

“Gimme some skin,” Luke laughed breathlessly and Klaus just watched in wonder as Dave complied with the request, as if they hadn’t just run away from an array of bullets. This idiot. Luke held his hand up towards Klaus, and he complied.

“Whoa, that tatt,” Luke gasped, he grabbed Klaus’ hand, laughing at the ‘HELLO’ written there. Curious about his reaction, Klaus held his other hand up, showing the ‘GOODBYE’ written on and Luke’s laughter was loud and contagious.

“When did you get them,” Luke had asked the next time they had settled in the racks - their cots.

“Was my old man’s idea,” Klaus said. He had considered going back to the story of having made the choice himself, but he didn’t want to lie. Not now. He had no need to lie. “It’s a crazy story that you wouldn’t believe.”

“Lay it on me,” Luke challenged him, and Klaus grinned. That was something he liked, there were very few of the soldiers that would try to stop Klaus talking when they were off the field, they’d listen to his rambles with a shake of their heads but they never told him to be quiet. He supposed that it was something familiar, something to stop them from sinking into whatever depression followed them away from the battle.

“It all started one day, several years in the future, it was a normal day but strangely enough, a group of women gave birth. These women had not been pregnant when the day had started,” Klaus began, much like Pogo had on the few occasions he had told the children stories of their births. He knew that the others wouldn’t believe the words he spoke.

“Bullshit,” Saunders interrupted. Luke hushed him, gesturing for Klaus to continue.

“My father, the wonderful man he is, was able to buy seven of those children,” Klaus continued. He had the whole tents attention, even Jefferson had turned to watch Klaus as he spoke. There were a few confused noises as Klaus said _buy_ , but it only made him grin more. “We were numbered, One through Seven, I was Number Four. We were strange children,” Klaus said, ignoring the sniggers and the ‘ _you can say that again_ ,’ that was said into the room by one of the bystanders.

“Anyway,” Klaus ground out, and the chuckles stopped to let him continue, “Number One was stronger than any normal child, able to throw grown men with one hand and without any effort,” Klaus continued to tell the about his siblings, skipping over himself until he had spoken about Number Seven, until; “Then, there was Number Four,” his voice had turned softer, almost sombre as he spoke about himself. “Much like Number Six, Number Four didn’t enjoy his abilities, he was able to see the dead after all, and that wasn’t something a child should see.”

“Beam me up Scotty,” Luke whispered under his breath, and Klaus laughed loudly. A few others joined in, but Klaus caught Dave’s eye. There was something calculating in his gaze, almost sad as he watched Klaus.

Klaus shook off the strange feeling that had come over him when he caught Dave’s eyes, and instead, he continued to talk about how they had been branded at a young age, told they would save the world, and how they had fallen apart one by one. Klaus’ last update on their lives had been when his father had pinned him down with his gaze, allowing Grace to act as a deterrent from leaving the chair as the tattoo artist had offered him that sad expression as he filled in the block letters on Klaus’ palms. It was an attempt, he had explained, to stop him hiding away from the dead.

The night had been quiet, but Klaus knew that no one really believed him. Luke had looked on in awe as he spoke, but the others had enjoyed the fairytale that had been spun for them. Klaus was almost envious of their belief in normalcy.

* * *

“Do you speak Hebrew?” Klaus asked. He had caught the whispers of the words Dave had spoken as they had marched forward into battle once again. Being back in camp was cause enough to relax. Klaus had heard the others roll their eyes and talk about Dave when he had moved away to pray for the day. He didn’t manage to pray often, but it seemed that their downtime would allow him more chances.

“I’d be a poor Jew if I didn’t,” Dave huffed, but he was still smiling which Klaus thought was a point in his favour. “I know some others are hiding it, but it’s a part of me.”

“I know a few that don’t,” Klaus pointed out, but maybe it was different during this time period. “Shalom.” Klaus grinned but Dave’s eyes narrowed and he said something that clashed with Klaus’ limited Hebrew. “I don’t know much, just a few things. If you want to natter in Hebrew, I’m a good sounding board, I’ve been told I pick up languages pretty quickly too.” Klaus didn’t expect anything to come from it, but he wanted to extend the offer all the same. Dave had done so much for him, so even if it was just a few words that he could offer to help Dave feel more at home, he’d happily do it.

Surprisingly, Dave did make a point to greet Klaus with a shalom, and even would say ‘Lehit-raot’ at the end of the days before they climbed into the cots. It was a nice distraction, and sometimes Dave would slip in sentences, laughing as Klaus tried to translate. A quiet _todah_ would show Dave’s appreciation when Klaus passed him an item he had wanted, or even a bottle of water. Klaus found himself saying it back when Dave went out of his way to do something for him. The smiles were always worth it.

“L’chaim,” Dave had toasted Klaus one of the few nights they were able to sit around and enjoy alcohol in the camp. Some drugs were constant, but the alcohol had been rationed - along with certain drugs. The higher-ups had to be in a good mood to let the unit drink more than one, and that night had been a good day.

“What’s that mean?” Chaz asked, making the low murmur cut off in the tent. Jefferson had been looking over as Dave’s bottle clinked against Klaus’.

“Just cheers,” Dave shrugged, a hint of a blush on his cheeks. Klaus had noticed how reluctant he had been to speaking Hebrew around the others.

“L’chaim?” Jefferson repeated.

“A little more than just cheers, it’s to life, right? Celebrating that we’re still here doing this shit,” Klaus interrupted, sending a grin to Dave as he leant back against the bench. They had sat on the floor, ready to deal out cards to each other, Chaz being the card master this time.

“To life,” Chaz repeated. “I like it.”

It became almost a tradition between the four of them, soon growing to the others that would join them for a drink on the few days they were accepted. Klaus had expected them to forget, but it didn’t happen. Sure, sometimes it would be one of the others that made a point to say it with a nod to Dave, but more often than not, it was multiple men in the unit. The pride Klaus felt seemed undeserved, but back in that day, looking back on what Klaus remembered of his history lessons, he felt glad to know he was in a _good_ unit.

* * *

“Hargreeves, you got a girl back home?”

Klaus lifted his head from his cards, frowning at the newbie who had shouted the question out. The others had tried to ask Klaus about his home life, but he had managed to dodge the questions with ease, typically by asking someone else what was waiting for them back home. He has told them the truth, but there were some soldiers that wanted the _reality_ of Klaus’ home life. They didn’t want to hear about how Reginald had bought him, or how he had been trained to kill and hurt others. That was too unbelievable.

“Do I seem like the type to get tied down?” Klaus asked, there was a range of chuckles that followed his question.

“You seem like a hippie,” Jefferson shot out and Klaus sent the man a wink. He was a little unconventional and he would happily admit it. It was one of Jefferson’s go-to insult for Klaus. Where it had started out as a hiss, it had turned fond. Klaus supposed that being around each other for a month now was part of the reason. Klaus was fond of the stuck up non-queer as well. He was close to aggressively straight, but being surrounded by so many men had to be part of the reason. Jefferson had a picture of a lady under his pillow, one he would stare down at after the harder battles, someone he seemed to love truly. Klaus was only a little envious of the feelings he had. Jefferson wouldn’t stand up for him, but he knew that Klaus didn’t need it. Klaus had a way of making their Sargent sigh and leave him alone with duties the others would complain about. Klaus took them with a grin, thanking Sargent for the opportunity to be of service. It had warmed the others up to him, and they appreciated the fact Klaus didn’t complain about being on dig duty. Klaus had a knack for getting out of arguments with limited damage.

“Do you get many skirts back home like that?” the newbie asked. Klaus looked at the boy, he looked young, maybe recently signed up, probably dead in a week. He had settled in the camp well, but after each day out of their safety net, he would stare wide-eyed and the tremors that Klaus knew all too well would often overtake him in the first hour of being back in camp. Adrenaline was a bitch those first few weeks.

“I’ve had my fair share,” Klaus offered, knowing just how it would go. “I look good decked out after all.” Klaus thought he was adjusting well, he had picked up some of the common slang that was used, and even Dave had stopped frowning at him. The others were still suspicious though. It made Klaus feel bad to call females skirts, especially since he was missing his own skirts, but it wouldn’t do well to stand out too much. He had to blend in if he didn’t want to be shot in the back. Dave had been quick to warn him, watching his back with a frown. The ghosts around had jeered and heckled Klaus, almost waiting for him to join them in the afterlife.

Jefferson nudged Klaus, passing over the joint he had been holding. Klaus certainly didn’t mind how easy it was to get these. There were even pills and heroin around, although he didn’t actively seek those out too often. It was the weed that was difficult to come by, shockingly, often hidden out of sight until the higher-ups were out of sight and away. Apparently they had been trying to reduce the soldier's use of it, a great deal of soldiers had been sent home, discharged from service - although Jefferson swore it was all false information, it hadn’t stopped him hiding his own stash when their cots were inspected.

“Lay it on us,” the man said. Klaus brought the joint to his lips, breathing it in as he considered what to say. He had kept a lot of himself hidden away from them, but the weed and the easy atmosphere around felt inviting. Plus, if Klaus was honest with himself, cocaine in his system often made him talk more than he planned to.

“There’s not much to tell,” Klaus said, passing the joint over to Chaz. “The longest relationship I had was three weeks, I’m happy to move on. Settling wasn’t a thing for me. There’s too much out there to experience.”

“No shit?”

“Plus, I doubt my old man would have been happy if I ever brought anyone home. I think he’d rather arrange something than let me find someone,” Klaus laughed. It was true, if Reginald was able to, he would probably marry them off to each other and keep the _specialness_ of them alive. Luther and Allison had probably been a dream.

“You just a badass then?” Jefferson laughed, nudging Klaus. The newbie passed over the joint, not taking a drag. _Interesting_ , he hadn’t seen enough to stray into temptation yet, but Klaus was sure he’d try it once before he was shot.

“Something like that,” Klaus laughed, leaning against Jefferson’s side for a second as Dave snorted a laugh, the smoke coming out of his nose.

“He’s a right trouble maker, surely you’ve noticed,” Dave drawled, and Klaus held a hand to his chest, mouth wide in mock-horror.

“ _David_ ,” he scolded. “I am an angel, I always do what I’m told.”

“Kiss off,” Chaz roared, “you flake more than any of us.”

It had only been a few days later that Dave had cornered Klaus, trying to keep his voice down, but the others had heard all the same and they had quietened again, hoping to get a glimpse into the hippie’s life.

“Haven’t seen you write any letters home,” Dave had said quietly. The others had all been writing home, although Dave wrote less than the other troops tended to. Klaus hadn’t made a point of asking why, but then Dave had to go and do that. The traitor.

“You don’t write much yourself Davey,” Klaus said in that sing-song tone that normally made the conversation change. It often made scowls form on the more serious faces, and typically, the one that had the focus would turn with a huff and stride away. Klaus hadn’t been able to read Dave too well, but he wasn’t too surprised that the man had only raised an eyebrow, still seeking his answer. Dave was always interesting in that way. “Not much to write home about, we don’t talk much.”

“Being drafted didn’t change that?” Chaz asked, like the noisy dick he was.

“Doubt they even noticed I wasn’t around,” it was self-deprecating, especially considering Klaus had put effort into being able to go as he pleased without being followed. Although, he had to admit that Ben would have noticed him missing. Ben seemed to notice the strangest things sometimes, but this couldn’t have slipped his notice. If he did manage to overlook Klaus not being around, it’d be a shock - an impressive one at that.

“What about the whole saving-the-world thing?” Jefferson snapped, and Klaus loved how conflicted he looked.

“Didn’t I tell you how useless I was?” Klaus laughed, it was bitter and harsh. He tried to reign it in, there was no need to divulge _that_ side of him too soon. “Dew only helped so much, I managed to get myself some of the stronger stuff before I left home. Training stopped and I was free to leave, or I was after these babies showed no potential,” Klaus smirked, holding his hands up and showing his tattoo’s to the group. Once the group had noticed the tattoos on his palms, Klaus had taken to using them as good morning show, or even a sign he was still alive, and not dead in the dirt where he had fallen.

“You’re not that useless,” Jimbo pointed out. He wasn’t as new as the newbie, he had managed to last long enough for the others to name him. “You stopped us running into punji stakes.”

That was true, although Klaus had only relayed the message. Another soldier had warned him, having run into them himself. Punji stakes were harsh, they could do some serious damage to unsuspecting troops. They were sharpened sticks, hidden in areas that were difficult to wander through, the troops weren’t protected enough to keep them safe from the booby traps that had been set up. It wasn’t the first time that one of their own had stumbled across one that they had set up. The jungle looked so similar and yet so different that it had only been a matter of time.

Klaus had made a point to stop being high enough to block the ghosts out, not if it meant survival for him and his unit. He took the edge off, but they were there to help. American soldiers stood together - most of the time. Ben would have still protested, he’d have pointed out how much better Klaus would aim and focus without the drugs in the middle of a war. The thought still hurt Klaus’ chest. He missed his brother, but as he looked around the tent, he wondered if it was worth losing one for a whole group. He felt like a traitor to Ben’s memory with the thought.

Was Ben worth more than this rag-tag group of soldiers? A month ago, Klaus would have said yes.

“I proposed before leaving real life, she writes sometimes but I miss the passion pit nights,” the newbie sighed.

“That was always a gas,” Jefferson agreed.

Klaus doubted that he’d ever get used to the language.

* * *

“I’m jazzed to get on the make, it’s been far too long,” Chaz had chuckled. He had happily led the way into town, more familiar than Klaus was, even seeming more family than most around them. He had led them to a bar and wasted no time in collecting a round of drinks. _L_ _’chaim_ , they had said, downing the first shot.

It felt easy, to sit with the small group and drink. The conversation was meaningless and the men in their unit had slowly dwindled as they found girls to dance with. Klaus laughed at the sight of some of them, laughing and pulling the girls closer. It was a large uncoordinated mess.

“We should probably join the fun, eh?” Klaus nudged Dave. He looked over as Dave looked down at his drink. “Tell you what,” Klaus grinned, making Dave look up. “If you manage to draw a lady in before me, I’ll cover all your drinks tonight. No talking allowed, just dance and see who gets more attention.”

Dave laughed, shaking his head.

“Come on Katz,” Klaus smirked. “I’m on a mission to get you a little less uptight, think of it as a dare soldier.”

Dave had said something similar to Klaus a few weeks ago. Klaus had slipped, falling hard against the ground. He considered just staying there, letting the tigers that roamed find him and end the pain in his chest. There was only so much he could do, only so many people around him he could see die and come back to haunt him. It would have been easy. _Come on Spook, get up, think of it as a dare_ , he had said, and the absurdity of it all had been what made Klaus move. Not that he had lived the spook comment down since.

“Just dancing?” Dave asked and Klaus grinned. There was no way he was backing out now. They both hit the dance floor, just as uncoordinated as the other troops.

It almost felt like home, Klaus enjoyed dancing, especially when someone else would join him. The music was a little out of his taste, but it was easy to sway and move to, and Klaus found himself bumping into somebody too quickly. Dave’s dancing stopped, and Klaus copied him, following the tilt of his head and getting around round of shots, managing to draw the unit back together for them.

“Franks found a moose!” Chaz announced loudly, and Dave lent over to explain at Klaus’ confusion. There were still moments that caught Klaus off guard, and he liked to think he had adjusted to the vocabulary differences but he couldn’t figure some things out. Apparently a moose was a Vietnamese mistress, he’d never have guessed that. Chaz’s girl joined them in Franks’ place, taking his shot like a champ.

Klaus and Dave managed to find a moment of peace behind the beaded doorway, nursing their drinks. They had both hit the giggly stage of the night, chuckling at Chaz’ ecstatic expression as the lady he was with pulled him closer. He had given them a wink, mouthing that he’d see them in the morning as he had left. Only Dave and Klaus remained. They had continued to dance some before they had found the nook they were hidden in.

Dave’s hand was warm against his face, and Klaus was weak. He didn’t fight it as they drifted closer. The whole night had seemed to revolve around the two of them. The others had left with their own females and Dave and Klaus had drifted closer.

Klaus sighed into the kiss. It was gentle and hesitant but it made Klaus feel _something_. He didn’t want it to end.

* * *

“Is it true?” Dave asked, and Klaus only hummed, leaning against Dave’s side a little more. They were sat on a bed, propped up against the wall, both shirtless. It had been a wonderful night, they had joined the others for drinks, toasting their lives once again before they were able to slip off. The motel was nothing special, but it seemed like the height of luxury with Dave by his side. They both had taken their time kissing, able to touch each other without fear in this tiny, rundown room with only a small bed. Dave had been hesitant, loving and everything Klaus could have ever wanted. He thought that rough and fast had been what he needed, but Dave had continued to surprise him.

They had partially re-dressed, ready for anything to interrupt them. Dave had broken the silence with his question, and Klaus wasn’t sure what he had said in the moment, but it must have been something that stayed on his mind.

“About your family, how your old man got you tatt’ed up and wanted you to fight crime as a weird family fight club,” Dave explained, and Klaus laughed. _Family fight club_ , it was so stupid but Diego would love it. Klaus missed that idiot, they hadn’t run into each other often, but the chance was always there. Now he was just too far away for it to be a possibility.

“He definitely tatt’ed us up,” Klaus agreed with a sigh. He had come to terms with it, especially his palm tattoos, but he still hated how the choice had been taken from him. He wasn’t sure he could lie to Dave right then, not with how warm and comfortable he felt. Klaus had missed feeling like that. Sure, he had found bodies to sleep beside and he had been able to reach out and touch people, but it hadn’t been like this in a long while. It certainly hadn’t been long that someone had lent into his cold touch rather than shy away. Feeling Dave so ready for his touch had been thrilling and addictive. The war could wait.

“What about it all happening in the future?” Dave asked, his words quiet.

Klaus considered his answer, he hadn’t really lied to Dave yet. The little lies didn’t count, all the soldiers lied about being fine after a close call, or after a night of no sleep. Klaus had only said what everyone had wanted to hear.

“If I said yes, they’d all call me crazy,” Klaus pointed out, trying to sidestep the question.

“We all know you’re crazy,” Dave smiled. “You say a lot of strange things and you were so… out of place when you arrived,” Dave continued, the ease in his voice fading as he turned serious. “I think most of us would believe you if it were true,” Dave said slowly, almost considering his words as much as Klaus was. “You still say some weird things, and your memory ain’t right.”

Klaus laughed, deep and loud. He knew Dave didn’t mean anything negative by it, and it was refreshing to know that he liked someone that would be honest to him. God, he missed Ben. Ben would have laughed too, and he would have happily recounted times that Klaus’ memory had been non-existent.

“I fell into a river once,” Klaus said, his nostalgia leading him down memory lane. “Ben had said I was going the wrong way but I was too off my head to listen to him. He did it a lot, called me all kinds of names but it was never the same way as the other people did.” The difference was that Ben never sneered as he called Klaus useless or a druggie. Ben didn’t use the words to get something from him - or at least he’d say them with a smile and a hint of fondness.

“When was that?” Dave asked.

“Maybe a month before I came here?” Klaus hummed. It had happened a few times, although the places Klaus fell would often vary.

“So the ghosts are real?”

Klaus made a questioning noise at Dave’s question.

“You said that Ben died a while ago, right? Number Six?” Dave was unsure with his words, but Klaus’ heart grew. He had remembered, and even remembered Ben. He was so used to the people he mentioned being forgotten in their death, or ignored because no one else could see them. He could lie, call Ben a different number. He didn’t want to, Dave _listened_ and cared enough to remember.

“Yeah,” he said instead.

“What is it like?” Dave asked, the _to see them_ went undetected.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Klaus said, faint memories of a childhood still playing in his mind. He remembered talking to some ghosts before the bad ones came around. They were more friendly to a lost child than a lost adult. “It got a lot worse when we were teenagers. Perverted ghosts and people we had killed just wouldn’t leave. It was hell. Sometimes there were ghosts that told me how to kill myself. One time mom had to pull me away because one ghost managed to convince me that a noose was a good way to swing. Otherwise, it was mostly the mausoleum that was hell, I didn’t embrace my abilities well enough and I was scared of what I saw.”

Klaus had kept his voice light and his memories lighter, but Dave’s flinch felt real behind him. Klaus’ hand was in a vice grip.

“They told you to kill yourself?” Dave sounded horrified, and Klaus was thankful he wasn’t facing the man.

“Vividly, would talk me through it on the worse nights. Ben managed to put a stop to that though. The thoughts didn’t always leave, but he helped. I was a shit brother to him though,” Klaus continued. The words just flowing without any true reason. He hadn’t been so honest with anyone without a fight. He even held back with Ben, being so honest was foreign to him, but it felt easy.

“Sounds like I should thank him,” Dave said quietly.

“Hopefully you won’t get the chance to,” Klaus said, but it was more to himself than to Dave. “I do miss him, he was there for years and now he’s just not here.”

“It must be tough,” Dave agreed, his hand had found it’s way to Klaus’ hair. It was soothing, and Klaus’ eyes had already started to drift close. His other hand squeezed Klaus’ before he settled it over the block letters.

“I regret not fighting,” Klaus admitted, feeling Dave run his fingers over the letters on his palm. At least he wasn’t as ticklish as he used to be. He wasn’t sure if he was _just_ talking about the palm tattoos, or if he was talking about his whole childhood, both would work. “I let it happen because I knew fighting wouldn’t change anything, but I hate myself for just giving in.”

“You did everything you could, protecting yourself is more important than fighting,” Dave pointed out quietly, and Klaus couldn’t hear any lie in his boyfriend's mouth. Were they boyfriends? They hadn’t said so, but they weren’t just friends. “If you fought, what would have happened?”

“I’d be punished,” there was no doubt in his mind. Reginald would have locked him up more, and maybe Klaus would have progressed with the power that he hated. Between the two choices, Klaus thought that moving to drugs had been the better option. “What is your family like?” Klaus asked, desperate to stop thinking about his own family again.

“Just my ma’ and pa,” Dave said slowly.

“You don’t write home as often as everyone else,” Klaus pointed out. He had wondered why for a while, but he didn’t want to just _ask_ , this had been a heavy night though, so maybe Dave would feel ok sharing.

“I don’t have time travel to explain it, just a family that struggles to accept this,” Dave explained, his hand squeezed Klaus’. “My ma’ tries, but pa isn’t shy about what he says. I think we were all glad I left like this. At least it’s an honourable death.”

The words twisted inside of Klaus, making his breath stutter. He didn’t want Dave to die. He would do his best to make sure this man made it through the war. He was brought here for a reason, he wanted to make keeping Dave safe that reason.

* * *

“Man, I just really like Katz,” Klaus slurred. He saw Dave’s cheeks reddening and he just walked to pull him forward by his hair and steal a kiss.

“What type?”

“What?” Klaus frowned, turning to Jimbo.

“Cats, what type of ‘em do you like?”

“Fuck man, all of ‘em,” Klaus grinned. The pain in his arm was barely there, Klaus just watched Dave’s reddened face. The alcohol did that to him - so did Klaus sometimes.

“You sure you’re not joining in Katz?” Jefferson interrupted.

“They’re so fluffy and soft,” Klaus continued, his eyes focused on the slight curls in Dave’s hair. He wanted to touch it, but he had been told not to move his arm. It was a slower process then when his wrist had been held still, or when his palms had been pressed open.

“Someone has to be the sane one,” Dave chuckled, he brought the bottle back to his mouth, taking a drink. Klaus wondered if he would still taste the beer when they found a moment together. “We’re in groady conditions.”

“He’s just better than us,” Klaus said seriously. He did think it was true, Dave was smart and funny and so soft. “We’re not worthy,” he added, winking as Dave frowned. It was only partly a joke. Klaus wasn’t worthy, maybe the others were, but he wasn’t. He was just too selfish to keep away.

“Fucking juicer over here is on the spaceship,” Chaz laughed. Everyone grinned, and the eye rolls that Klaus had grown to expect didn’t come. Normally when he was so spacey, there were soft words being uttered, guiding him to a safe space to ride the feeling. These men didn’t care like that, they trusted him to know when he had too much, and Klaus was just riding that line. Jefferson had considered cutting him off, the twitch in his hand as Klaus had gone for his last drink had shown enough of the squish under his shell. Chaz had been the one to shake his head, keeping the bully-bear reigned in.

“If we die from a tatt, would they just tell everyone we were shot?” Jimbo asked, and Klaus barked with laughter. Jefferson had rolled his eyes, chuckling all the same but Chaz’ expression turned considering.

“Technically it would be wound from the enemy?” he said, his tone lifting at the end.

“They’d label us dumb-asses,” Jefferson giggled - but it was a manly giggle. The type that straight men were allowed to do when they were drunk.

“You’re already there,” Dave pointed out, taking another drink. He hadn’t drunk much, he didn’t normally drink much. Enough that he’d feel it and let himself go, but never to the point of giggling except that first night between them. Dave was sophisticated like that, and Klaus loved him for it.

Klaus loved him.

The thought managed to sober him a little. Klaus - the dumb idiot, had managed to fall in love with a soldier.

“Fuck, look at that,” Chaz said with awe, he had leant forward, almost pushing the poor man working on Klaus’ arm aside. Klaus looked to his arm, it wasn’t an overly impressive design, but it had been one that they had all agreed on. _173rd Airborne Brigade. Sky Soldiers._ Klaus loved it, he hoped he had more than just this tattoo to remember them all, but it kept the others close. It showed how _together_ they were, how much they cared about each other, even if they didn’t like them. They were a family here.

It had been Jefferson that suggested them all getting tattoo’s, Klaus had talked Dave into letting him get one the last time they were able to have a bit of downtime. They had stumbled across the small shop and Klaus longed for something of his own. Dave hadn’t protested, even though he had made comments about infections as the tiger had been etched onto his back. They hadn’t seen many tigers, but the jungle had some. Glimpses were all they saw, but Klaus enjoyed the imagery. The way they had slunk and the way the troops had seemed to mimic their movements in times of need. They were lucky, there were rumours from other troops they passed at how the tigers would attack, having gotten the taste for man from the bodies scattered in the jungle.

Granted, Klaus had momentarily regretted the choice for the tattoo. His skin had stretched and itched when they had made it back to camp. The others noticed almost instantly. Claps on the shoulder and the back were met with winces of pain and he had been bullied into showing them what he had done. There, the suggestion of matching tattoos for the unit had been born.

Dave had only smiled, declining his own tattoo. His ma’ would skin him, he had said. He couldn’t be a traditional Jew at war, but he wouldn’t be able to explain a tattoo away. He’d might as well be left for the tigers if he got one, he claimed it would have been an easier ending for him. The others had laughed, they had brought it up a few more times, attempting to coax him into it. Klaus didn’t. He knew what it meant to him, and he would be damned if he pressured his soldier into something like that.

* * *

“Have you changed your mind?”

“Wha -?” Klaus frowned at Jefferson, one of the few that had stuck with them the whole time Klaus had been there.

“When you said you wouldn’t settle down, did you change your mind?” Jefferson looked paler than normal, but that is what walking wounded would do to you. Thankfully, he was looking more alive than he had when Klaus had stumbled across him in the boonies. “Get away from all this, back into the world and find a mirror warmer like you to settle with, a fox that’ll keep you outta trouble.”

“Something like that,” Klaus agreed, partly for Jefferson’s sake, but he had thought more about settling down. He had found himself daydreaming about a life with Dave ahead of him, one where they'd be happy and safe from the bullets around them. “Not sure a fox would want a blitzed hippie like me,” the joke fell short since the quiet med-bay didn’t laugh. Klaus hadn’t wanted to visit him, but Dave had nudged him into it, Klaus had brought the picture of his wife. It was little comfort, but Jefferson had given him a tight smile. The pain was still hurting, despite the drugs he had been given.

“You leave here and stay off the juice and get your head clean and there’ll be so many skirts waiting for you,” Jefferson promised him, and Klaus hated how this conversation had turned. It felt final, like he was trying to make amends for the teasing he had done. Klaus hoped that Jefferson had managed the million-dollar wound, the one where he would go home and live somewhat normally, but the whispers all around the camp called him an expectant - someone who was doomed to die. A shot through the leg wasn’t always bad, but he had been out in the dirt, losing more blood than they were happy with.

“You’re going home,” Klaus promised him, but the words felt wrong to say. The promise was empty and Klaus could see how unlikely it was.

“Don’t lie,” Jefferson huffed. “I ate it.”

Klaus couldn’t bring himself to reply. He wanted that false hope, he didn’t want to lose anyone else.

Jefferson died the next day.

Klaus had refused to acknowledge the ghost fading into existence, but Dave noticed the solemn aura around him. The news was delivered to them before the rations were handed out.

Nobody seemed shocked.

Nobody spoke as they ate.

* * *

“ _Fuckin_ _’ Katz_!” Jefferson’s ghost roared when Klaus and Dave went to check the perimeter. Dave had nudged Klaus, waiting until they were far enough away before letting their hands brush. Klaus didn’t have the energy to hold himself back, as his hand had slipped into Dave’s.

It was a simple gesture, but it had helped all the same.

“ _Fuckin_ _’ Katz_ ,” Jefferson huffed again. “ _Jimbo thought you were talking about cats but this square_?”

Klaus was glad he took the psychedelic he was offered just before their check, Jefferson’s image was already fading around the edges, it saved him from Jefferson’s soon to come rant about panty waist soldiers - which he had heard a great deal of times already.

“Another one,” Dave pointed out, and Klaus just hummed. Dave had kept a tally of their unit, adding another one when a member had to be replaced. Klaus wasn’t sure how he hadn’t lost the number in his mind, but he had stayed consistent.

“He gave me a lecture about going home and getting married to some fox,” Klaus offered, and Dave’s chuckle was enough to make the mess of the situation feel lighter. “Fancy wearing a skirt for me so I can tell him I done it?”

“Only if you do the same,” Dave squeezed his hand, and Klaus fell that little more in love with this solider.

“I’ve worn many skirts in my life,” Klaus promised.

“You looking to get hitched then?” Dave asked in a light tone, but Klaus could hear the hesitance in it. “Finally settle down?”

“I do like shiny things, a nice ring would look good on my hand, don’t you think?” he lifted their joined hands, stretching his fingers out. It drew a smile from Dave.

“You may need to find a good hunk to buy it,” he pointed out. “I bet there aren’t many that can find something shiny you’d love,” he teased.

“I’d marry you with a paper ring,” Klaus said, the words burning with honesty and it made Dave come to a stop. Klaus had meant to say something witty, something about how there were only a handful of hunks he’d consider, but the truth had spilt from his lips too quickly. “Don’t flip your wig,” he begged.

“You’d marry me?” Dave asked in a quiet whisper.

Klaus’ heart rate doubled. Didn’t Dave know that? Didn’t he realise how much he had this stupid out-of-time soldier around his finger?

“If you’d have me,” Klaus said, trying out this whole honesty thing. In for a penny and all that. It didn’t help the dryness of Klaus’ throat.

“If I’d - of course!” Dave laughed. It was loud and obnoxious, a sure request to be shot at, but Klaus didn’t care, not when Dave’s grin was so focused on him. He’d die happy then and there.

They both held ridiculous grins for most of the perimeter check, Dave held Klaus back before they re-entered the camp.

“Ata kol kakh khashuv li. Do you think we’ll make it? That we’ll see the law change?”

Klaus hoped so. He’d happily live until they were old and grey if he had the chance to keep this man by his side. Klaus loved him, truly and honestly. It was overwhelming and Klaus didn’t care how scared he was about admitting it. It always made Klaus’ heart melt when Dave uttered words like that, his Hebrew often hid his softer side, and Klaus was sure he’d not hear anyone else speaking it without that hint of Dave whispering sweet nothings to him. _You mean so much to me_ , Klaus hoped that Dave knew just how true that statement was for him as well.

“I hope so,” Klaus said, sticking with his honesty. “Ani ohev otcha.” _I love you_ , and he did. Klaus hadn’t thought it possible, especially not in a place where more men died than survived. He didn’t dare brave the words in anything but Hebrew, he didn’t want to admit it to himself so openly. This was something between Dave and Klaus, just them.

Dave’s smile was blinding, but Klaus couldn’t bring himself to look away. Fingers wrapped around his wrist, they were too close to camp to risk anything more, but Klaus knew that the fingers around his wrist were truly kisses. Dave’s slightly pink cheeks would darken as they kissed and Klaus missed the future just for that, for how he would be able to kiss Dave wouldn’t worry of anyone seeing them.

“Just us and our barnyard?”

“Us and our barnyard,” Klaus agreed, the promise settling in his heart. He would be able to handle anything with this man by his side. Klaus couldn’t wait to see him laid on their bed, their dog and cat curled up by his side, stealing the warmth from him in the chill of the night. It made it all worth it, his whole life had been building to that moment, and Klaus longed for that happiness. To be able to hold Dave close and not care who was around again.

* * *

Their last day on leave had been one that Klaus treasured in his mind. He had brought Dave to a small tattoo shop once again, asking him to keep watch as he went into the back with the artist. He had talked to them, explaining his idea and what he wanted, but he didn’t want Mr. Judgemental to know just yet.

Dave had winced as Klaus came back to get him, making the soldier sit as he laid back for the artist to bend over his stomach. The needle hadn’t hurt much, and Klaus let himself get lost in Dave’s eyes. They were welcoming, what he hoped that home would feel like. As much as he wanted to take a hold of Dave’s hand, he knew he couldn’t. Not there. So instead they kept eye contact. Two bros just supporting each other. Nothing queer to see. Nothing queer that they would understand.

Time barely passed, the itch of the needle colouring his skin was the only reference in his mind to time. Klaus wouldn’t regret it, he knew that much. He’d wear this tattoo with pride, keeping the secret of it close to his heart.

“So, what’s it mean?” Dave had asked as they walked towards the crappy motel they’d be spending time in. Klaus hadn’t said much, only thanking the lady and paying her before he was off out of the door without so much of a wince of pain.

“You know how I rambled about tigers showing strength and blessing the holder?” Klaus asked. Dave nodded, he had rambled a lot when the first tattoo was being etched into him, how Klaus had been drawn to it much like the small shop. Somehow Klaus was able to speak a mix of Thai and Vietnamese, leaving Dave’s head reeling. It wasn’t like the short phrases the troops had picked up, but full sentences without pause. “This one is Thai, it’s a Gao Yord Sak Yant Tattoo - or at least a slightly butchered one,” Klaus continued. “It gives protection, or it’s thought to. I had it modified a little.” A little had been an understatement, the tattooist hadn’t been happy, trying to explain that it didn’t work the way that Klaus had wanted it to, but he had been determined. Dave was being included and that protection would cover him as well.

“What did you do?” there was resignation in Dave’s voice.

“It reads; Klaus loves David,” Klaus grinned.

Dave froze in the street, his eyes moving from Klaus’ stomach up to his face and back down to the reddened skin.

“What if someone reads it?” Dave asked in a whisper, not wanting to ruin the moment, but still needing to be that annoying person he sometimes was.

“I doubt anyone we’re sharing racks with knows Thai, and I can always play the victim,” Klaus laughed. “Oh no! Some horrible Thai lady took advantage of me! I thought it said _Klaus loves mud_! You know how I just adore the dirt and grime,” Klaus proclaimed, his voice high and floaty as he waved his arms around.

“You are in the mud more often than anyone else,” Dave teased, and Klaus didn’t care to continue his charade. He just gave Dave a push, starting him back on the journey to the motel. They’d figure it out if it came to it. Klaus doubted anyone would figure it out, it was something for both of them to enjoy, and from Dave’s blushed cheeks, and the way he would continue to glance down at Klaus’ tender stomach, he did enjoy it.

Although, Klaus hadn’t enjoyed the kisses against the skin, gentle and soft when they got a room for the night. They made his breath quicken in slight pain, but Klaus knew he wouldn’t be able to resist if his name was somewhere on Dave’s body. He swallowed the sting, embracing the comfort of Dave to ease it.

The others had laughed and joked when they returned from leave, chuckling among themselves and asking how many more tattoos Klaus would have before they finished their tour. Dave would always get a dopey grin when Klaus’ stomach was visible, the words loud and proud but hidden away from them all. Just their secret, like their whole relationship.


	7. The End of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last three days.

Klaus’ world ended in an instant. He had seen so many of his brother’s fall by his side, and he had comforted Dave through losses of their comrades. No more. He wouldn’t be able to - Klaus couldn’t stand to see another one die.

Klaus had sat in the camp, eyes unseeing as he waited. If he waited long enough then maybe - just maybe he’d find his answer. The drugs were wearing off, they hadn’t been strong enough to push the ghosts away fully, but they were starting to make his hands shake, the need setting in.

“ _Spook_ ,” Jefferson was still hanging around, watching Klaus with a worry that ghosts often didn’t care for. The nickname had been enough to pull him out of the blank stare he had, but not enough to make him move. It wasn’t that often the others would use it, only if they were worried about him. There had been a moment where one of them had called out _‘Number Four_ ’ in an attempt to see if his stories had been true. The full-bodied flinch he gave had been enough to nip that in the bud. Spook had been born, but only for the moments that they needed his attention urgently. Often it was on the field, where his eyes would glaze and his aim would shake. It was their way of bringing him back, and they’d get a _‘HELLO_ ’ for their efforts, an acknowledgement that he was there and aware of what was happening. “ _You need to sleep_.”

Klaus didn’t acknowledge him.

“ _Come on Hargreeves, you need to be around for the next boot that comes along. You can_ _’t be flaky again_.”

Klaus didn’t want to see anyone else come and take Dave’s place, not as they had for Jefferson and the others. Not this time, not without him. Klaus wasn’t strong enough for that.

“Hargreeves,” another voice called, and Klaus responded, knowing he couldn’t just ignore him. “Go clean up.”

“Not feeling it right now,” Klaus winced, his voice was barely there.

Jones came closer, and Klaus just wanted to be alone. He wanted to let himself feel sad, to give Dave a chance to show up. Jones sat on Klaus’ rack, making sure not to touch Dave’s. Klaus hadn’t looked away from Dave’s rack yet. If he continued to stare, then maybe Dave would appear and sit across from him.

There was a jingle as something fell onto Klaus’ lap. Dog-tags. A lump formed.

“We all know you were closer to him than his family,” Jones said gently. “You had a… _bond_ ,” the emphasis would have made Klaus smile any other day, but it felt too soon. Normally the _bonds_ between brothers in the tents were whispered about, they were secrets, kept hidden in an attempt for comfort and nothing more. Klaus hadn’t said anything to discourage that, it wasn’t uncommon for some soldiers to band together, and they had been careful to keep their moments between them, out of sight of all the living - ghosts were damned. That bond, Klaus had loved. It had made it feel special. That bond had been forcefully broken, and Klaus was just grasping at his end, hoping for something to keep him afloat. “We’ve already got him in a glad bag, I thought you’d like those though. Doubt you’re up to seeing him like that.”

Klaus blinked back the tears, Jones gave his shoulder a squeeze as he stood back up. Leaving Klaus with Dave’s tags. The thought of him already in a body bag - at least they had been able to recover him. Klaus would have rather died with him. Klaus would rather have died than him.

The tags dug into his palm as he squeezed them in his hand. He had to see him one last time. Just once.

The camp was silent and sombre. Dave had been easy to get along with, everyone liked him. It didn’t make sense that he was gone. Dave had been close to finishing his year. Why hadn’t Klaus grabbed him and used the briefcase, surely anywhere else would have been less deadly.

“Have you seen him?” Klaus asked once everyone had fallen asleep. His voice was still rough and quiet. “I might still be -”

“ _No, he hasn_ _’t come around yet_ ,” Jefferson said.

Klaus licked his lips, nodding. He had waited, the shakiness had grown from his hands to his whole body. The need building more. What exactly he needed, he wasn’t sure. Drugs. Death. Klaus knew he couldn’t stay. Not so close to breaking. The others wouldn’t judge him too harshly, not when they would do the same for their closest troop. The newbies were often shuttled in soon after a death, and Klaus couldn’t stand to stare at the empty rack that Dave slept on. He would break, he’d sob and hate whoever it was.

“ _Just crash, we can figure it out tomorrow. You_ _’re so close to getting that skirt to settle with_.”

Jefferson meant well. Klaus knew that. He had assumed, after his initial shock, that Klaus and Dave were fooling around to avoid the feeling of loss. A few others had paired up, still reminiscing about their ladies back home, but needing that closeness. Klaus hadn’t had the nerve to tell him the truth. He thought that he knew, that Jefferson was just struggling to understand. Klaus knew that Dave had expected to marry a girl back home someday before he had met Klaus. It was how things were done. Klaus had given him hope, had made him think he could live as a bachelor without worry. Klaus had lied to him.

Dave wouldn’t get to go home, and Klaus wouldn’t get to call him his husband. There were no shiny rings in their future, no pets, no house a little way out of town. Klaus was alone. Again.

* * *

Somehow he was back. Ben had felt Klaus again. It had barely been a day, and it had been the scariest time in Ben’s afterlife. He had grown used to seeing Klaus freeze, and how he would stiffen and shake in an overdose. Even growing used to how Klaus would fade right in front of him and then inexplicably come back too sudden and too strong for how ill or high he had been. He had even gotten used to the feeling of fading himself, of watching Klaus blur too quickly before everything turned thick and unmanageable. He would be lost in the feeling of it all, unaware of what was happening.

Watching Klaus vanish in blue light had been something else entirely. Ben had felt lost. Klaus had always been there, a beacon in the fog of death, and there had been nothing. The faint sensation he felt was gone and Ben felt dead. More so than normal. He had been scared. Terrified of what had happened.

Klaus’ return had been sudden and unexpected, but Ben’s faint _there_ had driven him to his brother.

His brother, the one sat on a bus, staring out of the window with tears falling from eyes, his body shaking and his chest heaving. The towel and coat he had been wearing were gone. His hair had been different and Ben saw another tattoo - healed already. It was impossible. The most haunting thing, was the pain and the emptiness in his eyes. Ben had seen Klaus, but never like this. Never so heartbroken and lost. The blood was the only thing that Ben recalled from before. Klaus’ hands shook around the case he held, and his hands were coated in dried blood.

Ben followed Klaus off the bus, unable to say anything. Klaus hadn’t acknowledged him, but Klaus hadn’t acknowledged much at all.

Ben didn’t understand what was happening as Klaus hit the briefcase against anything that was near. He hadn’t seen his brother this angry before. The scream wasn’t just anger though, there was much more behind him. He ended up curled on the floor - something Ben _had_ seen many times, but the sobs that shook his body was unusual. Perhaps this was as scary as not being able to feel Klaus nearby, watching his brother fall apart and not knowing why.

* * *

“You ok?” Five asked, knocking on the door.

“Hey. Yeah, I just… long night,” Klaus said, and his voice was all wrong. Ben wanted to scream, to push his brother and ask what was wrong, but he was scared of the answer he’d get.

“More than one from the looks of it,” Five said, and Ben recognised that lightness in his voice. It was Five’s ‘I know more than you’re saying’ tone. The one he used when he wanted to know something from his siblings, the one that would lead to him annoying them until they talked.

Klaus agreed though, making Ben pause. He hadn’t considered it, not really, it was impossible. Klaus wasn’t Five. It made no sense.

“I don’t remember the dog tags,” Five said simply.

“Yeah, they belonged to a friend,” Klaus said as he pulled his t-shirt on, but the words seemed to be spoken through his teeth. There was more to the story than Klaus was saying. Not that it surprised Ben, Klaus had never been fully honest with his siblings, not even with Ben after he had died. There were still secrets - less of them, but Klaus kept himself guarded from everyone.

“How about that new tattoo?” Five was looking at Klaus in a strange way, and it made Ben a little wary of what the old man would say.

Klaus just looked down at his arm, as if he hadn’t noticed his own tattoo. He let his arm fall to his side as he spoke, “You know, I don’t totally remember even getting it. Like I said, it was a long night,” he gestured for Five to leave, and his tone had changed just slightly, but Ben knew it was just adding to his dismissal of Five’s presence.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Five asked, a grin forming on his face.

“What are you talking about?” that forced lightness was back in Klaus’ voice as he sat down.

“You know I can recognise the symptoms, Klaus,” Five continued to talk, sidestepping Klaus’ interruption. Ben just watched the exchange as Five came further into Klaus’ room. Klaus avoided confirming Five’s words, but Ben knew as soon as they were said. There was tension in Klaus’ back, almost hidden away, but clear if you knew where to look.

“Almost a year.”

Ben felt colder than normal at the soft words. Ten months, Klaus had continued on, using the words as a lighthearted joke to hide the pain. He had been gone for so long.

Klaus didn’t stay for long, as soon as Five’s attention changed to the briefcase, he was standing and leaving. Telling Five how it was gone, ignoring how Five’s whole body tensed and his face had fallen. Klaus just walked away. He wouldn’t have before, he’d have annoyed Five until he had made the choice to leave. Klaus’ room was _Klaus_ _’ space_ , one that he would fight for, something sacred. Yet he just left.

Klaus had also been silent in the car, even when Diego tried to goad him into talking. It was unnerving, especially as he continued to drink. A drunk Klaus was rarely quiet unless he had mixed the alcohol with something that would leave him near death. At least Diego was around to help, that should have been a comfort for Ben. It wasn’t. He was focused on Klaus, waiting for _something_ , he just didn’t know what.

“Just drop me off here,” Klaus said, perking up. It was strange, typically mention of his broken jaw made Klaus wither and snap at whoever brought it up. Klaus wasn’t focusing, which wasn’t unusual, but there were topics that even a high Klaus would shut down. Something else was driving him, and Ben felt even more lost at what it was. It was almost as though the man in his brother's body was a stranger.

Ben was thankful that Diego didn’t just drive away and leave Klaus. He was thankful that someone who could help was able to see how different Klaus was. How unlike himself he was.

“ _Follow him_ ,” Ben urged, but Diego didn’t hear him. Nobody heard him.

Ben had followed Klaus into many situations, but this had been the strangest. Klaus hadn’t led him into a veteran’s bar before. Ben tried to coax Klaus out of there, even as he helped himself to the alcohol, taking more shots.

The picture had made Ben pause. Dave. That name held so much emotion as Klaus had spoken it. It had brought the tears, and the shaking of his chest back as Klaus struggled to stand upright. Diego’s appearance wasn’t expected, but it made Ben feel better to know Klaus wasn’t alone with him, that someone could help pull Klaus away from the picture and get him home. The whole day still not making much sense to him.

Then, the veteran came over, and Ben knew what would happen before it did. Klaus’ hands were tightening into fists as he made his first comment. There was a manic glint in his eye. Klaus wanted the fight that would no doubt break out.

Which it did.

It wasn’t the first fight Klaus had allowed to escalate, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it was a low moment where the two siblings were beating up veterans. Ignoring the chaos around him, Ben moved to get a better look at the photograph that Klaus had caressed. For a moment Ben didn’t believe what he saw, but Five had all but confirmed it had happened. One of the soldiers looked like Klaus - _was Klaus._

* * *

Ben was silent as Diego stopped Klaus taking whatever pill he had pulled from his pocket, even if it would only delay Klaus. The way he went about discouraging the drugs was the same as always, _it_ _’s a weakness_ , _treat yourself better_ , they were nice sentiments but fell on deaf ears. Ben was still focused on the picture of Klaus. He had looked happier than Ben typically saw his brother, there was stress in his face, but he had been at war. He seemed lighter in the picture, and Ben felt selfish for hoping that it was just because it was a picture. _Ten months_. Klaus hadn’t come back, he stayed there.

“Don’t tell me everything is alright because I saw you in there! You were crying like a baby!” Diego snapped, having hit Klaus on the back of his head, ignoring his protest.

“Because I lost someone!” Klaus snapped back, but the venom wasn’t there. Most of the emotions that made Klaus who he was weren’t there. “I lost someone,” Klaus repeated, his voice soft and Ben willed Diego not to speak and break the moment, because he would find a way to punch his brother if Klaus managed to hide away from this again. “The only… the only person I’ve ever truly loved more than myself.” Klaus had focused on his own hands, before looking over to Diego.

The words hit Ben’s chest, and he wanted to reach forward and touch Klaus. It was hopeless but he wanted to. He had seen how the physical contact could ease something inside of his brother, it was difficult not to notice when he would go out of his way to brush up against whoever he could dance with, almost sinking into the contact given the chance.

“Cheers,” Klaus slipped a pill into his mouth, taking advantage of Diego’s stunned silence.

“Well, you’re luckier than most,” Diego finally said, and Ben wanted to hit his head against the headrest. Diego hadn’t often been tactful. “When you lose someone, at least you can see them whenever you want,” he had continued.

Ben watched as Klaus looked away from Diego, how his breath seemed to have been heavy just for a second. There was something else that was missing. Ben knew that some ghosts took longer to show themselves, but something wasn’t right. Klaus wasn’t acting like he had before, there was no sad expectation. It was as though Klaus didn’t expect to see this person again. As if Klaus had accepted what had happened in a way he had never done before. Klaus had already given up. He had pulled away from Ben and everyone, drinking until he could forget because he didn’t think Dave would come. It had to be Dave, that name had been whispered with such affection.

“I know that guy,” Klaus said, making Ben turn in his seat. Sure enough, that was the guy that tortured Klaus, _Hazel_ from what the others had said. “I barely got out with my life.”

Ben caught Diego’s calculated expression, as if he had just put the pieces together as he put the car in reverse, ready to follow him.

“You do know that killing these people are not going to make you feel any better,” Klaus pointed out when they had reached the motel that he had been tortured in, and Ben knew he spoke of experience. Klaus had a few kills to his name, and they were all done in revenge. He had rarely stepped in to hurt someone, the last time Ben recalled it was when Sarah - a woman who would often share her bagel with Klaus on a Sunday, was being pressured by her partner. He had been angry, dragging her away and scolding her as though she was a child. Klaus had protested, even gone as far as to push the guy away. At least until the knife came out. He had managed to catch Sarah deeply, who had frozen at the sight before he advanced onto Klaus.

Sarah had bled out quickly, and Klaus had reacted instantly. Twisting and using his momentum to angle the knife towards the man, managing to push him just enough to catch an organ. Klaus had fled, Sarah’s ghost catching up later to thank him.

Diego told Klaus to stay in the car, and Ben counted aloud down from ten. Sure enough, Klaus’ door opened when he hit zero. He caught the wink that Klaus sent him, and it made him feel a little better to know that just a hint of the brother he knew was still present.

Ben wasn’t sure why Klaus stuck around, but he was there to pull Diego out of the way of the bullet. That manic glint in Klaus’ eyes was back as he did it. Ben wasn’t sure what Klaus was focused on, but something in the distance seemed to have caught his attention as he held onto Diego for a second too long. A groan from Diego brought Klaus back, and he looked around, unfocused before catching the blood oozing from his arm. Then Klaus was talking again, following Diego as he raced down the stairs.

The tires were slashed. At least these assassins seemed to know what they were doing.

“What are you doing?” Diego hissed.

“Driving, get in.”

“No. You don’t drive. You can’t drive,” Diego protested, holding his arm. Ben wondered if it hurt, it must have.

“Well, I learnt,” Klaus snapped, he managed to open the door to the ice-cream truck, tucking his bottle of vodka by the seat before climbing in.

“When?” It was a good question, one Ben wanted to know the answer to.

“About half a year ago idiot, get in,” Klaus snapped, his tone offering no room for arguments, Diego complied.

Ben wasn’t sure how he managed it, especially since he had climbed up into the front of the truck and blocked some of Klaus’ vision, but they were driving. Surprisingly well. Klaus had swerved a few times, attempting to dodge a few whispers of ghosts, but he was in the lane and only just speeding.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise as Klaus waved to Luther and Five, although it was fun to see Luther’s hand raise to wave back as they passed. Ben had laughed as Diego yelled. Klaus’ attention was focused on the two assassins though, and he didn’t seem to hear either brother.

Ben wasn’t sure what pushed the two assassins back as they passed, but he wasn’t upset to see them fly. The crash wasn’t as fun. The jolt pushed Ben out of the truck.

* * *

“ _So you were a soldier_?” Ben’s voice cut through the silence. They had made it back to the Academy, Luther having driven them. Diego was getting cleaned up. Luther was watching over him, helping with the first aid as they had been taught.

“Something like that,” Klaus mumbled, he was staring at the ceiling, not making any move to get onto the bed. He had laid on there for an instant, but all too soon he had thrown himself onto the floor with a sigh of relief. Ben knew that Klaus sometimes needed the stiffness of the floor, but he hadn’t seemed so content on the floor before.

“ _You learnt to drive there_?” Ben asked. It was like pulling teeth, trying to get answers out of Klaus. Ben believed him, it was difficult not to when you considered the facts. The picture had been the final puzzle piece.

“About half a year ago,” Klaus hummed,

“ _Tell me about it_?”

Klaus was silent for a moment.

“No one would say that normally,” Klaus said quietly into the darkness. “ _Lay it on me_ , but he did say it once. I was talking about home and he wanted to know more. _Tell me about it_. I did, everything. God I miss him.”

“ _Did he teach you to drive_?” Ben asked, guessing that this person was Dave.

“No, no, that was Chaz, he said it was a necessary skill to have,” Klaus turned his head towards Ben.

“ _Tell me about him_?” Ben offered, but for the first time in a while, he wasn’t sure that Klaus would. There was something so different to the man he had seen the previous day, the one that would happily discuss his thoughts to Ben - to the only person that couldn’t tell anyone else or do anything about it.

“He was my everything,” Klaus whispered thickly, the words wavering in the darkness. “He said we were meant to be together, that the universe had pushed us together and I believed him. He was - I miss him.”

Ben was silent as Klaus talked, letting him gush over how Dave was. How he was gentle and caring, and how he made Klaus feel special. It hurt, hearing how Klaus cried and admitted to missing that feeling. How he had missed being someone that others cared about and looked up to. He missed Dave’s touch, _not just the sex Ben, but he would press his arm or his leg against me and it would feel like home, like I didn_ _’t have to pretend and I could be myself_. Klaus hadn’t had that, not really. He was always alert, waiting for someone to want something and he would adapt himself to fit that mould they gave him. Dave hadn’t wanted that, not really. He had seen through Klaus’ act, from what Ben heard, he would listen and remember what Klaus said and he would care.

“I got rid of the sleeves on my fatigues, they all laughed but Dave copied me. Said it was our way of showing what we were in the middle of the chaos. Said I was a fashion setter, just him and me in the middle of it all. He had enough sense to wear something under, I wasn’t unknown to have my fatigues open, bare chest underneath,” Klaus smiled.

Ben knew just how thin the fatigues had been back then, especially in Vietnam, where the air was thick and hot. They weren’t protection, if Klaus had been shot, he wouldn’t have stood a chance, not really. So many people had died in Vietnam, and Klaus had been _there_. How had he survived? Sure, Klaus had learnt how to fight, but a child overpowering an adult is so much different to guns and bullets.

Ben recalled a faint memory, a younger Klaus, stood with a gun in hand. Reginald had snarled and demanded details from each of them, but everyone said they hadn’t seen the moment it had happened. Ben had lied. He had been the one to shout as the gunshot rang out, he had watched as Klaus’ face had gone suspiciously blank. _Calm_ , as though he had known what he was doing. Would he have taken to the guns in the war as quickly as he had the handgun he had taken from whoever they had fought?

“We talked about it, about having a life together and what we might do after everything was over. I told him that I’d marry him, and I didn’t run away,” Klaus laughed, but it was bitter. Almost as though he was blaming himself for getting attached to this person, and knowing Klaus, he probably was. “You’d have been proud of me being an adult,” Klaus continued quietly, the self-hate disappearing as quickly as it came. “I thought I’d be able to be happy. I _wanted_ to be with him.”

Ben couldn’t speak, not after that declaration. Klaus hadn’t ever used such an emphasis, and he had always bad-talked the people he was with. Sure, he would compliment and praise parts of them, their cooking, their bed, their sex life. It wasn’t so encompassing though, Klaus hadn’t really wanted to be connected to anyone. He had stayed out of convenience and because it was warm and satisfying in a sense. He didn’t let himself get too connected to the person, always keeping some distance between them, keeping himself far away while the other person would give him their all sometimes.

What had Klaus been like without Ben? He wondered how happy his brother had been, how he had gotten along with the others. Ben didn’t want to ask himself if the only reason Klaus came home was because Dave died, but the question was loud in his mind. He knew the answer, but he didn’t want to admit it. Through all of Klaus’ talking, he hadn’t mentioned Ben, not really. A passing ‘ _you_ _’d have liked him_ ,’ had been said, but nothing about Ben, and he wondered if Klaus had even missed him being around.

He shouldn’t be jealous. He knew that. Klaus had been happy. He had lived his life, which Ben had been begging him to do for years. He just thought he’d have been there to see it, to enjoy the moment with Klaus.

* * *

It wasn’t the first time that Luther had held Klaus up by his throat. Hell, it wasn’t the first time that Klaus had been choked. It still made Ben yell at him to stop it. Ben wanted to be proud of the growth Luther was having in the middle of his breakdown, and even more so for Klaus trying to help him through the breakdown.

It was pitiful really. The both of them were so close to breaking, and they were not suited to help each other. Klaus was doing his best in the middle of withdrawal and he almost managed it. Klaus had never managed to admit how Luther wouldn’t want to be like _Number Four_ , Ben had heard Klaus talk about himself and how he hated what he had turned into, but he hadn’t said the words to anyone but Ben and the rehab groups.

Then Luther had left, pushing Klaus across the room in the process. He looked terrible, the sweat beading on his skin, and the paleness in his face. Ben was almost certain he looked slightly green as well, but it could have been the light. Klaus’ chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

It had been Klaus’ idea to follow him, and Ben could only watch as Klaus shivered and sweat through the streets as the night approached.

“You can do this Klaus,” Ben said, hoping it offered some comfort. “Luther needs you,” and if Klaus wasn’t driven to do more when he felt needed. It was an underhand push, but Klaus had wanted to help.

Ben stood his ground, even as Klaus’ withdrawal turned him bitter. He had seen this before, and he hoped he wouldn’t see it again. Klaus would say things to hurt, and he would sometimes apologise instantly, other times he would hold onto that anger until he got his next high. It seemed as though the latest heartbreak kept Klaus true to the first, as he apologised and continued. Ben wondered if he did the right thing. Luther needed them, but Klaus wasn’t doing well at all.

Admittedly, Ben hadn’t expected the rave or Luther dancing topless. He kept an eye on Klaus, waiting for the moment that he would give in, that the drawn would be too much. It had been Luther that had offered the pill - Ben hadn’t expected that either.

The pill flew. Klaus looked after it longingly, but he had thrown it out of reach. That was progress at least. Ben was proud of him. He tried to help, to offer words of encouragement, but Klaus’ eyes glazed, his hands covered his ears as he seemed to disappear from himself.

Ben was slightly less proud when Klaus crawled across the floor. He had done so well. It was strange to see his brother crying as he held a pill in his hands. Still, the pill stayed away from Klaus’ mouth. He seemed to regain himself and once again, the pill went flying across the floor as he went to help Luther again.

The idea to jump on the back of some guy hadn’t been Klaus’ best, but it also wasn’t his worst, so Ben hadn’t been too concerned.

Then, he hit the floor.

That lack of feeling hit Ben in full force, and he gasped, curling in on himself. It was such a sudden and jarring feeling that he thought Klaus had disappeared again. Standing upright, Klaus was just laid on the floor, his head tilted.

The world darkened around Ben.

Klaus sat up with a gasp, and the feeling returned. Ben tingled, feeling itchy, but once again, able to see. Everyone was staring at Klaus, how long had it been?

“Luther?” Klaus asked, turning from person to person, but there was no response.

“ _Klaus, stay where you are_ ,” Ben urged, but Klaus was already pushing himself up off the floor. “ _You could really be hurt_.”

“Where’s Luther?” Klaus asked, his voice scratchy.

“ _I can_ _’t see him_ ,” Ben explained, holding his hands up as Klaus moved closer, he didn’t care about Luther right now. Instead, he wanted to push Klaus back down until the ambulance that someone had to have called made their way to them and checked Klaus.

“We have to find him,” Klaus muttered. There were still so many people watching on, confused and concerned, but no mind was paid. No one else had come to stop Klaus moving, and Ben wanted to scream at them.

“ _No, you have to wait and get looked at, this wasn_ _’t just an overdose_.”

Klaus didn’t listen. Ben tried to convince himself that he had overreacted, that the lack of anything was just Klaus losing consciousness, but it was impossible. Ben hadn’t felt that much nothing before when Klaus passed out, even when Klaus’ heart had stopped during the overdoses it hadn’t been that sudden. It had felt like he had died once again.

“ _What just happened_?” Ben hissed, feeling uneasy. They were already out of the club, Klaus was still sweating, but he shivered in the breeze.

“I died. God doesn’t seem to like me.”

“ _What_?” Ben hoped that Klaus was just talking nonsense, it would have made more sense. There was that sureness to his voice though, Klaus rarely used it. Klaus’ arms wrapped more around his midsection, and he seemed to curl in on himself as they continued to walk.

“I died,” Klaus repeated. “Fell just right, died instantly.”

“ _How are you alive_?” Ben wasn’t jealous, and he actually meant it, but he didn’t understand what Klaus was saying. Sure, they had been through a range of close calls. There had even been times that Ben had been positive Klaus’ heart had stopped for too long. Then there were the times that Ben had been pulled away from Klaus, away from the world. Ben knew he was connected to Klaus, and that the further away he was, the weaker his grasp on himself was. It hadn’t been the first time Klaus had spat and used his words to make Ben retreat, often seeking out one of their siblings as Klaus calmed down and settled. The weakness would come and go in those moments, almost as though it was a heartbeat of safety that weakened. Ben had moved out of range a few times, that connection almost shattering with how weakened.

“She didn’t like me, wouldn’t let me stay,” Klaus muttered, continuing on his way home. “Saw dad though, bastard killed himself to bring us all together.”

“ _I_ _’d say I was surprised_ ,” Ben said weakly. The words made sense but they didn’t. Klaus was alive, he could feel him, that connection was back in place and strong, but the nothingness had been terrifying. “ _We need to get home_.”

Klaus didn’t protest as he would normally. The Academy wasn’t home, even without Reginald there. A warm place to sleep must have been too inviting in Klaus’ state.

* * *

Ben being able to touch Klaus had been a surprise. They had frozen, staring at each other for a moment as they both had replayed the moment, trying to understand. Klaus had been happy, eager to continue and see just what they could do. He had even let Ben boast, pointing out that they might already know how to do it if Klaus had listened to him and stayed sober before. It hadn’t worked, but they continued to try.

Ben pulling Diego out of the crumbling Academy had been thrilling. They hadn’t managed to figure it out, but it was _proof_. They hadn’t just imagined it, Diego had been saved because of Ben. No one believed them when Klaus had been honest about the events that happened, but they knew the truth and were certain that it would work again if they needed to - truly needed to.

Then they were in the concert hall. Ben hadn’t just helped, but everyone had _seen_ him. Klaus hadn’t been terrified, there had been fear, but he was excited. _Giddy_. He hadn’t been in a real fight since the war, he hadn’t been in a fight with his siblings in years, and he was the one to put an end to it all. Except for Vanya.

Vanya had continued to play.

Klaus knew it wasn’t really her fault. She had been manipulated and twisted. His younger sister had never been this bitter and angry at the world. Perhaps her boyfriend had a hand in it, the others had told him about who _Harold_ had been, how he seemed to hate them all for some reason. Young Vanya wouldn’t try to kill her siblings, even if she knew about her powers, Klaus was sure of it. No child that cried when ants were killed would try to end the world.

So, even as Vanya was drawing whatever - energy, their spirit, life - out of them, Klaus didn’t blame her. She wasn’t herself, the white eyes showed that much. She had been taken in and overwhelmed with her power. Perhaps their father had been right to train them from birth, to teach them control and how to use their abilities. Vanya hadn’t had that training, not really. Reginald and Allison (to a lesser extent) had taken that from her. Regaining her powers had to be overwhelming.

Klaus expected Allison to shoot her. He had seen her behind Vanya and for a brief moment, he saw Vanya crumple and blood poor from her. It wasn’t real, Vanya had been shocked out of her trance, falling from the sudden switch.

“ _Klaus_ ,” Ben called, staring through the hole Vanya had created in the roof of the hall. Following his gaze, and stumbling to his feet, Klaus still didn’t blame her.

“Guys,” he called, hoping they would listen. “You see that big moon rock coming towards us?”

“That’s not good,” Luther said.

Klaus sighed, his fingers already going to the dog tags around his neck. He wasn’t sad, he wasn’t even happy. Klaus had thought about death for years, considered it as a possibility. Meeting the _creator_ , he wasn’t so sure. Would he see Dave again? He hoped so, if he kept hold of the tags, would they find each other? Would Klaus just be kicked out of whatever afterlife again? Left to roam the Apocalypse.

“So this is it, huh?” Klaus sighed.

“ _No, there has to be something_ ,” Ben protested, looking to each of the siblings, hoping someone might have an idea on what to do.

“So much for saving the world,” Klaus paid his brother no mind. There was nothing they could do. He just hoped to get his happy ending.

“If only Sir Reginald could see us right now, huh?” Diego added.

“ _Klaus, Five is thinking, ask him what he_ _’s thinking_ ,” Ben begged.

“The Umbrella Academy; a total failure,” Diego continued, bitter words cutting through the silence where Ben’s voice should have been.

“ _Listen to me!_ ” Ben pleaded, but Klaus just let his eyes sweep over to Ben before going back to the moon chunk rushing towards them.

“At least we’re together in the end, as a family,” Luther offered, but the words weren’t comforting to anyone.

“This doesn’t have to be the end,” Five finally said, much to Ben’s ‘ _Thank you!_ ’.

Klaus just turned slowly, considering his brother and his words. Did he want to go back, because there was no doubt in his mind that that was what Five was hinting at. Going back in time, undoing everything. _Undoing Dave_.

“ _Klaus, please_ ,” Ben said gently, moving over to his brother. “ _You don_ _’t want to die like this. He wouldn’t want you to die like this._ ”

Klaus was glad that Luther and Diego agreed with him when he said no to trusting Five. It wasn’t as though he _wanted_ to die, his last experience hadn’t been too fulfilling after all, but he wanted Dave.

Ben continued to ask Klaus to just try, to trust Five and try to use his ability. Diego had already agreed. Klaus agreed for Ben, to stop him staring at him in horror, to stop his gentle pleas.

“What about Ben?” Luther asked, making Klaus pause. He hadn’t expected it, but turning, Ben’s smirk offered no room for denial.

“Great, yeah, he’s in,” Klaus said, turning back to Number One.

Five’s ability wasn’t as taxing as Vanya’s, but there was a rush around them as he tried to jump. Klaus felt Ben’s hand on his shoulder, firm and steady as his siblings changed. They were younger versions in front of him, children he hadn’t seen in a while.

Then, there was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no good way to end this that is somewhat true to the show, so I'm ending it a little lighter (I say after I've gone and let him die). We know how the story ends for season one. I hope you all enjoyed it.
> 
> I am working on a time travel story, that will be very loosely connected to this, because I have no self-control, so that's something that might come out soon.


End file.
